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illyrianbitch · 2 months

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One Summer

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol and recreational drugs (weed!), two friends with a past, a budding crush

Word Count: 4k

authors note: i’m excited to get this out hehe so pls ignore any mistakes/typos that i missed! 🫶🏻 happy end of summer!

Series Masterlist

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It took you a second to register your surroundings.

You knew the house was bound to be nice. After all, Rhysand’s family was loaded. You’d seen it in pictures from previous vacations, in the ones Mor had sent you over past summers when you’d gone back home. But even then, you still hadn't prepared yourself enough. The house wasn't only large and fancy. It was cozy– lived in. And it was absolutely beautiful.

There were little touches everywhere—- knick-knacks and seashells, photo frames, and soft rugs that felt like clouds under your feet. From somewhere deeper in the house, you heard Feyre and Rhys laughing. They had arrived a few hours earlier, settling in and preparing the house for the rest of you. At least, that’s what they told you all.

You and Mor had your suspicions that their reason for such an early arrival was more about having an empty house to mess around in before the rest of you came. You could still hear Mor’s conspiratorial whisper in your ear, teasing about how Feyre and Rhys probably took advantage of the quiet to enjoy some uninterrupted time together.

"They probably wanted to get all the best spots first," Mor had joked on the drive over, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. You laughed, agreeing silently that Rhysand and Feyre's early arrival was likely more for their own pleasure than out of any noble desire to prepare the house.

From outside, the crunch of gravel under tires announced the arrival of Azriel and Cassian. You heard the low rumble of their car engine idling before it was cut off, followed by the slam of car doors and the muffled sound of laughter.

“C’mon, let me show you your room,” Mor said, placing down a few of her bags and gesturing with her perfectly manicured hand.

You followed her up a set of stairs, taking in the walls lined with art and framed photos. Each frame was unique, from sleek, modern designs to ornate, vintage styles. The artwork ranged from abstract paintings to intricate sketches— and interspersed among the art were photographs capturing various moments. It was easy to spot the ones Mor was in, her blonde hair standing in stark contrast against the raven black of Rhysand and his sister and the dark brown of Azriel and Cassian.

You stopped at one in particular, a photo of Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Mor standing around a small, circular wooden table. You laughed.

Mor turned around at the sound, a frown on her face as her gaze flickered between you and the gallery before you.

“Oh my god,” she said, quickly backtracking a few stairs down. “Do not look at that.”

But it was too late. You leaned forward to inspect the photo more. Rhysand had braces, Cassian was sporting a terrible haircut, Azriel looked too tall for his frame, and Mor was mid-laugh, a piece of pizza hanging onto the metal outline of her own braces. You let out another laugh, cooing out a sweet Aww at your best friend.

She huffed beside you. ”I’m going to kick you out of this house if you keep staring at it.”

You flashed her a grin. “Aw, c’mon. I love it.”

Mor only gave you a blank look in response. She stayed still, raising an eyebrow impatiently as you grinned, eyes flickering between her and your newfound favorite photo. You reached into your back pocket, fingers grasping the edge of your phone. You itched to have the photo in your camera roll, to be able to send it to Mor as a joke whenever she failed to return your texts.

She registered the movement quickly, letting out a small sound of surprise.

"Absolutely not!”

Mor grabbed your arm before you managed to take a proper picture, pulling you up the stairs behind her as you laughed.

“You realize I can just take a picture later?”

”I’m taking that damn thing down,” she grumbled, “You’re enjoying it too much.”

You let her drag you along, still chuckling as you absorbed the surroundings. The house truly was a perfect blend of comfort and luxury, with wide hallways adorned with art and mementos, and an abundance of windows that flooded the space with natural light. It felt clean– dreamlike, even.

Turning a corner, Mor stopped, opening the door with a large gesture. You stepped inside, eyes widening at the open space. Sunlight poured in from the large windows and a small sliding door framed the ocean view perfectly.

”Oh my god,” you breathed. A sense of peace washed through you.

“I knew you’d love it,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Wait for the best part.”

She walked over and gently slid open the small door, your vision quickly registering the balcony connected to your room. You stepped out, the fresh ocean air hitting you immediately—bringing with it the soothing sound of waves and the tangy scent of salt. The view was breathtaking: an endlessly stretching out horizon with water sparkling under the midday sun.

You closed your eyes, reveling in all of the senses. You could almost feel the stress of the past few weeks melt away, a tangible sense of release rolling through your limbs. You didn’t need to think about grad school applications now, didn’t have to worry about buffing up your resume.

When you opened your eyes, you turned to find Mor watching you with a satisfied, giddy expression. “It’s like a little slice of paradise.”

“More than a little,” you mused as you took in the view before you. “Does everyone have a balcony?”

”Nope,” she replied, “I preferred the nicest shower. But Rhys and I figured you’d want easy access to outside for the same reasons Azriel picked his room.”

She mimicked bringing something to her lips and taking a drag.

You rolled your eyes but a laugh left your lips in spite of yourself. It took you a few seconds before her final words registered and your eyes trailed to the balcony beyond her shoulder, where another little door connected to the space.

Mor followed your movement.

”That’s Az’s room,” she clarified. “You share the balcony.”

”Oh,” you said. Mor gave you another smile. “Cool.”

She let out a small shriek of excitement, grabbing you in a quick hug. “God, I’m so excited for this summer. I get to tan, listen to some music, hang out with my favorite people and get pissed faced drunk.”

”All of your favorite things.”

Her grin grew on her red-painted lips. “Exactly.”

She paused, eyes widening as she dropped her hands from around you, taking a step back as she said, “We need to get drinks!”

Without another word she darted off, calling out for Feyre as she turned the corner and disappeared from your viewpoint.

Your gaze lingered on your open door for a moment before you turned around, walking closer to the edge of the patio. You leaned over the balcony, taking a deep, calm breath. The horizon stretched out before you, waves rolling in a rhythm that seemed to sync with your heartbeat.

You’d always loved the beach, loved the sense of peace that came with being near the ocean. Something about it felt so new— felt so refreshing and lively.

The sound of distant laughter filtered into your ear, and you easily recognized the boisterous cadence of Cassian’s voice. You followed the sound, glancing over towards the glass door of the adjacent room. Through the sliver of his room’s open curtains, you watched as Azriel dropped a bag on his bed, a small smile on his face at something said to him.

You angled your head further.

A nagging voice in the back of your mind reminded you that it might seem odd to be peering into someone else’s space, even if they were your friends. But, they were your friends, weren’t they? It wasn’t weird to be interested in what they were up to, especially when you were all sharing this space for the summer. So you pushed aside the fleeting feeling of unease, convincing yourself that you were simply being sociable and observant.

Azriel lifted his head. You blinked, quickly looking back to the view in front of you in an effort to avoid catching his gaze. You grimaced to yourself, a rush of heat flowing to your cheeks.

Smooth.

You shook your head, gently tapping the balcony railing as you turned around to head back into your room. You made sure to keep your gaze down, to fight the urge for your eyes to flicker towards Azriel’s door.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

All of the windows in the kitchen were open, filling the space with the fresh scent of ocean breeze. You gave Rhys and Feyre a quick greeting, walking towards one of the opened back doors. The urge to explore the beach and feel the sand beneath your feet pulled at you, calling to you like a siren to a sailor, but you stayed still. The drive here had been lengthy and, as a result, your deep-seated exhaustion weighed heavy on your limbs.

“Thinking of going and looking around?” Feyre asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Later, definitely. I’m feeling a bit too tired right now to be in the blazing sun.”

Feyre offered you a knowing nod. “Makes sense.”

The sound of footsteps drew your attention and you turned to see Azriel and Cassian entering the kitchen. The latter's eyes immediately found yours, a grin breaking out on his lips as he walked towards you in three long strides. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

”God, I missed you,” Cassian said. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the comment, knowing full well that you all had met up before making the drive to ensure that you had everything needed. But Cassian always had a flare for the dramatic. So, instead, you just gave him a small laugh and wrapped your arms around him in return.

He pointed to Azriel. “He’s such a bore, dude. He wouldn’t play any games on the road.”

Your gaze flickered over to Azriel. He rolled his eyes.

“Because your games involved me removing both hands from the wheel.”

Cassian shrugged, the movement redistributing the weight of his arm around your shoulders. “So?”

”So?” Azriel retorted. He opened his mouth to say more, but with a quick scan of Cassian’s face led him to closing his mouth and offering another eye roll. Azriel then turned his attention to you, holding your gaze as he offered you a smile.

”Hey, Y/n.”

His voice was much softer than a few seconds ago, a different tone than that he had used with Cassian.

You smiled back. “Hi, Az.”

You weren’t sure what to do next, torn between wanting to give him a small hug and the presence of Cassian’s arm around you. Az held your gaze for another moment before he walked past. You took in his figure, briefly noticing the change in his attire from this morning when you’d seen both him and Cassian. His long, black pants were now replaced by black shorts, instead. Before your stare could linger, Mor entered from the opened porch door, kicking off the sand-covered shoes she wore as she stepped into the house’s threshold.

”Oh great, you’re all here,” she said, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “Cass, are you ready to go?”

”Yup,” Cassian responded excitedly. He separated himself from you, casting a quick glance down at your form. “Wanna come?”

”Where are you guys going?”

Mor and Cassian answered simultaneously, “Liquor store.”

You raised an amused brow. “Have we become too fancy to just go to a grocery store?”

Mor shrugged. “I like my options.”

From across the kitchen, Rhys wrapped an arm around Feyre's torso, a cheeky grin on his face as he leaned forward to place his chin on her shoulder. “And yet, Mor, you always manage to return with a bottle of wine and a pack of white claws.”

Mor offered him a scowl. ”Shut it.”

”Actually,” Feyre hummed, “While you guys are out can you grab some groceries? I have a list. I can text it to you.”

Mor and Cassian exchanged a glance. “Sure, but it might take a while.”

Feyre arched an eyebrow. From beside her, Rhys rolled his eyes. “Why?”

It was Azriel who responded to her question, “Because they’re probably planning to 'taste test' everything they buy. So then they'll be sitting there and waiting it out until they can drive again."

You glanced over at him, watching as a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. The hazel of his eyes were bright now, more visible with the sunlight pouring through the windows. There was a glint of amusement in them as he met your gaze.

Morrigan let out a sound of mock offense. Cassian grinned. You laughed, giving him a playful swat with your hands. It only made his grin grow further.

”I can grab it, Feyre,” you said, “Cass and Mor can go on the alcohol run alone.”

She gave you a grateful smile, but a flicker of concern furrowed her brow. “Are you sure? It’s kinda a lot for one person.”

You frowned. “How many things are we buying?”

“I figured we should make as many meals to counterbalance the amount we’re spending on drinks.”

You clicked your tongue. “Smart.”

She tossed a glance over her shoulder, meeting the studying gaze of her boyfriend. “I can go with you.”

Rhysand instantly frowned and mumbled under his breath, but you failed to catch his words as Azriel’s voice chimed in behind you.

”I can go.”

He stood next to you and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second. He smiled.

“And I can drive.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The list Feyre had given you was indeed a lot— and all over the place.

Az trailed after you, pushing the large shopping cart as you slowly scanned the shelves in front of you. The car ride with him had been quiet, but it was the type of quiet you often yearned for— the comfortable kind that made you feel at home. He'd opened your car door for you, a gesture so casual and natural that you hadn't fully registered it until you were sitting in his front seat, pulling your seatbelt on. For some reason, the act had yet to leave your mind.

"What do you need?"

Azriel' braced his forearms on the cart's handle, leaning forward as he waited for your answer. Your gaze fell to the silver chain that dangled from his neck, now freed from its usual place hidden underneath his shirt.

"Y/n?"

You blinked. "Yeah?"

Azriel's brows furrowed slightly and he straightened his posture, pushing the cart closer to you. "Feyre's list," he clarified, "What's on it?"

You let out a small oh of realization, offering Azriel your phone in order for him to read off Feyre's comprehensive list of groceries. You switched places, Azriel maneuvering around the cart to look around the store. Your phone looked so strange in his hand and you suddenly regretted offering it to him instead of forwarding the text. You grimaced to yourself, mentally praying that your parents didn't message you— that no strange, unpromising alert flashed across your screen as he held it. The feeling that now flushed your body was the same cold, unrealistic panic that you felt when you traveled— when you'd go through airports and suddenly stress yourself into thinking you'd accidentally packed a live firework or a bomb.

Azriel had made it across an aisle by the time you reeled your thoughts back in. You let yourself fall behind his steps, observing him as he walked along the various cereal boxes.

There was a time where you'd believed that you and Azriel could be more than friends— back in freshman year when you'd first met. It was an instant spark, something so electric even Mor had felt it, had spent weeks making jokes about your crush. And months later you'd found yourself in that room with Azriel, inches away from his face on halloween night, lips still tasting of the fruity drink Cassian had made for you.

But nothing happened— not then, not after.

Two years had passed since and so much had changed. Not only within your life, but with Azriel himself.

He looked different now. His hair was longer— still cropped enough at the sides to show that dangling dagger earring you'd always loved— but long enough on top where his curls were on full display. He'd grown those out in the past two years, had stopped cutting his hair too short for them to show. He was tanner now, too, his golden brown skin holding an even darker sun-kissed glow— but you attributed that to the summer sun rather than the years.

It all fit him so well.

Azriel turned to face you, two large boxes of cereal in either hand. You straightened yourself, fixing your posture as hastily as a child caught watching something they shouldn't have been. If Azriel noticed anything, he didn't make any indication, opting to ask you about which cereal the others would prefer.

You both managed to switch again, Az taking his place pushing the cart as you examined the various boxes on the shelves in front of you. There were only a few more things left on Feyre's list and it felt like an internal fight to find all the items before the grocery store's white light lured you to an eternal sleep— or a well needed nap.

"You excited?"

You looked over at Azriel, meeting his hazel eyes instantly. While his face seemed neutral, you could see the hint of enjoyment that danced in his eyes, a golden-hued green that made you smile instinctively. "Yeah," you said, "It'll be a fun summer.”

Azriel made a sound akin to an appreciative, agreeable hum. The aisles felt narrower the more you walked alongside him, feeling the ghost of his touch as you brushed against him with every step.

"And for the festival?" He asked.

Your smile grew larger at this.

The festival was actually one of the things you were most excited for this summer—aside from the general premise of being with everyone, of course. Summit Pulse was three days of live music, featuring over 80 artists across multiple stages. From indie bands to electronic DJs, Summit had been a dream of yours to attend since freshman year—the same time you'd first learned that Mor and Rhys had a beach house in the same city it was hosted.

"Very," you tossed him a glance before you pulled out three boxes of instant Mac n Cheese. "And I can imagine you are too."

You were sure of it. Your shared love of music was one of the things you and Azriel had bonded about originally. You still remembered the first time you'd hung out with him outside of your Intro the Philosophy class, sitting on the couch in the apartment he shared with Cassian and Rhysand. You'd spent most of the night looking at each other's music— analyzing your saved playlists and talking about the various concerts you'd been to.

Az's smile grew, a single dimple appearing on his cheeks as the corners of his eyes crinkled. "You'd be correct," he replied. A small pause followed before he said, "I think I just need to get the energy for it."

You laughed, stopping in place to turn around and look at him. "Me too," you admitted. The exhaustion from early had started to rear its ugly head again and your legs still ached with the long car ride. You let out a small tired sigh, running a hand along your face. Azriel's eyes traced the movement.

"I am really excited,” you said, “But god, I'm so exhausted. I'm glad we have a few days for me to mentally prep."

Az raised a brow. "I can imagine. You've had quite the semester."

You titled your head in response, brows falling into a subtle, confused furrow.

"Mor told me how hard you guys were working, that your professors weren’t very accommodating.”

You raised a single brow at his wording and the corners of Azriel’s lips twitched upwards. “Alright,” he added with an amused shake of his head. “She said your professors were assholes who needed to get laid.”

You let out a small snort at this, an unintended response that you would’ve felt embarrassed about had it been anyone but Azriel in front of you. His smile seemed to quirk up further.

"Mor was right. It was a rough semester to say the least.”

For more reasons than you'd been willing to let on. Yes, your coursework had gotten a lot more demanding, but it wasn't just schoolwork that tired you out. Mor and Feyre had already started their grad school applications, spending nights in the libraries making pros and cons lists for every school each of you were interested in. Their plan was to find places close enough to one another, to settle in one city and get a large apartment together. Your grad school applications had remained untouched— you had no schools in mind. No programs. No connections.

"I can also imagine your breakup didn't help with it all," Az said. His voice was quieter now, as if he was unsure of the words he was speaking. You held his gaze as he looked at you. "I'm sorry about that, by the way."

You shrugged. "I'm not."

It was the truth. Eris had been a great boyfriend, sure, but you weren't overtly heartbroken over the breakup. You’d met Eris in a Political Science class and despite your initial impression of him, he’d grown on you fast. He was a sweetheart at his core but you simply didn’t mesh as well as you once thought. The breakup was inevitable in the same way that it was amicable, mutual, and very much needed.

Something flickered across Azriel’s face and his gaze darkened. He straightened himself, his posture now emphasizing the height he held over you. "Why?" Azriel said, voice low. "Did he do something?"

His response made your mouth go dry for a fleeting second. Azriel and Eris always had a long-standing hatred for each other that you’d never truly understood. It traced back to some events that had transpired during their high school years, this you knew, but your knowledge stopped at that. Your relationship with Eris had definitely distanced you from your friends— Mor and Azriel to be specific, but now that things were finally beginning to feel normal again, you didn’t want to ruin it.

"No, no," you quickly clarified, offering him a reassuring smile. His shoulders seemed to relax at your answer and you swallowed as you took in his face again, gaze still entirely focused on you.

You cleared your throat before turning yourself around to examine the shelves once more with new interest. "He was a good boyfriend to me. But it wasn't going anywhere and I felt like he was distracting me from more important things."

Reaching up, you attempted to grab a box on the top shelf, recognizing it as the last of those granola bars that Mor used to hoard in her cupboard. The box remained out of reach with every stretch of your hand.

"So no more distractions for you?"

Before you could respond to his question, Azriel was behind you, leaning over you to effortlessly grab the box from the shelf. He wasn't touching you, his chest still a respectable distance away from your back, but you felt the warm presence of him on your skin all the same. Your stomach did a small flip and you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realized you'd sucked in.

Azriel offered the box to you. You looked up at him, gently grabbing it with pinkened cheeks. You chose your next words carefully.

"Only meaningful ones."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

summer is slowly coming to an end so i present to you.... the fluffiest lil summer romance i shall ever write!!!! this series is entirely planned out and its just #vibes. everyone thank @milswrites for pushing me to actually start this.

as usual, thank you for reading <3 and lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list <3

one summer tag list 🫶🏻:

@velarisnightsky444

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii

azriel tag list 🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder

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syoddeye · 2 months

Text

consequence / shopping

price x f!reader | 1.5k words series directory tags: stalking mention, white lies, jp fears no 'friend zone', entitled cats a/n: john price vs. his feelings. john price vs. old man allegations. john price vs. his barista . ☕

john’s grip tightens on the wheel as he turns onto her street. he’s imagined this moment since he set her in his sight. possessing the patience of a sniper comes in handy with endeavors such as this, and it’s good to pull a trigger that isn’t lethal for once.

she’s waiting outside. good girl.

nose-deep in her phone, she doesn’t notice him until he’s a building away. his heart jumps into his throat when her eyes lift, and her face follows. she squints, then shades her eyes with a hand. a smile breaks the mild confusion, and she rises to her feet from the steps outside her door.

he forces himself to relax, painfully aware of the intensity of his gaze. he can’t risk running her off, but he has to see it—the moment of realization.

it cannot be the same car. calm down, you order yourself, plastering a small smile on your face as john rolls to a stop, grinning back through the window. it’s statistically impossible. there are thousands of cars in town, plenty of the same make and model. this is just the universe’s idea of a cruel joke: giving your favorite customer the same car you smashed your face and arm into. your good hand shakes as you open the door and sink into the passenger seat.

coincidences happen.

“hey.”

“afternoon. you look nice.”

“yeah? i was worried you wouldn’t recognize me without the apron.” she says wryly, draping her bags over her lap.

i’ve memorized your face and more. which one would think would help decipher the minutiae of her expressions. does she recognize the car? remember it? she was drunk and crashed hard enough to break bone—fuck, he hadn’t thought of the effects of the impact. too caught up.

he watches her buckle, eyes falling to her cast. it’s filling with signatures fast. the space that held his number is covered in a drawing of a cat. all that remains is ‘john’.

“did you draw over my number?”

“i didn’t think you’d want the free advertising.”

smart girl. the number isn’t traceable further than falsified records, but it's best to avoid nuisance. he lets the doodle eclipse his grand scheme and pretends to adjust the mirror. he’ll wait until the time is right. “that i don’t.”

the drive to her preferred market is ten minutes by car. she might’ve managed alone, but he’s done some of his best work in ten minutes. performed miracles and misdeeds. he spends this bit on recon.

he susses out a little more information about her life: she’s worked, on and off, as a barista for nearly a decade. she recently took in a kitten, the very one depicted on her arm, and named her chicken cutlet a tortoiseshell.

“it's all i had for food. now cece’s a snob.”

“points for uniqueness.” he grins and gestures at the doodle on her arm. though he doesn’t have much of an eye for art, it’s obviously stylized. “and creativity. bet you did her justice, like a regular artist.”

the comment, meant as a compliment, makes her wince. she ducks her head in poorly concealed shame, pretending to check something in her wallet. it comes out casually, like a weather report—she dropped out of an mfa program to move here, for the ex, a year ago.

the details resurrect his anger.

the tremble in her hand tells him to leave it. he will. for now.

the car park is packed, and it’s all he can do to not celebrate when he finds a space on the first go. he cannot be much older than her, but he’d rather avoid feeding the ‘old man’ reputation his sergeants encourage.

she separates her reusable bags as they climb out of the car. “do you have any pets?”

he circles to her side and takes them without asking, “no. afraid my schedule doesn’t allow for it.”

“oh.”

he beats her to the baskets, tossing her bags into the bottom, and she strolls past him. he traipses behind, head on a subtle swivel, inwardly tickled at how normal it feels. it’s not often he shops, let alone in the company of a bird. it makes him puff up. go a bit softer in the face, especially when a woman roughly his mother’s age gives them a long, wistful look in produce.

it’s nice playing house, even in the middle of a bustling supermarket, dodging the less spatially aware and rogue children. it strokes his ego to flex an arm over her head to reach the shelves she can’t and carry a bag of cat litter in the other. he cracks a joke about tinned fish, and though she doesn’t laugh, he can tell she wants to. how she ignores his suggestions and color commentary on other shoppers. it’s fascinating to watch her, all business, as if she were behind the coffee bar. tapping items off the list on her phone, triple-checking a recipe.

while she’s distracted, slowly loading the conveyor belt one item at a time, john pushes his luck. he slips his card and pays.

her focus breaks when she sidles up, reaching for her wallet, only for the cashier to offer the receipt. she takes it, confusion turning to understanding, and her jaw clenches. her thanks are muttered, and she promptly joins him in bagging what’s left.

he knows she’s upset before she speaks, practically punching items into the bag.

“please don’t do that again.” she whispers. “my wrist is broken. i am not broke.”

angry as she is, she sails out the doors without waiting. clearly expecting him to tote her bags like a porter and follow.

which he does, of course. it’s what he signed on for.

good view, at least.

the ride back to her place is quiet, but he feels the tension burning away with the light. it’s damn distracting how the sun plays off her skin and hair. ten minutes fly by. she turns to him as the car idles, a storm of thoughts in her eyes. severe, tempestuous, and pretty.

“park. you’re not off the clock.”

“yes, ma’am.”

the bag handles loop into one fist, and the litter rests on his shoulder. he beams, and with the complete confidence he usually carries himself, he starts up the steps of her building.

“uh…john?”

he glances over his shoulder and sees her fidgeting at the bottom of the stairs.

“that’s…not actually my address.”

his brows raise, fall, and pinch in rapid succession. the minx. a fake address. smart.

she sheepishly apologizes on the walk to one street over and explains.

“i mean, this part’s weird.”

“what part?”

“befriending regulars,” she shrugs. “the counter’s there for a reason—to sling espresso, yeah, but it’s also a social barrier.”

“do you often befriend regulars?” he hopes not.

“god, no.”

thank christ. he’ll start memorizing faces on his next trip, just in case.

“but being polite to people is part of my job.”

he cracks a careful grin. “do you get reprimanded for that?”

her eyes roll. “ha. ha. no. my manager’s a coward and afraid of me. what i mean is, it’s a tightrope. be nice, but don’t be too nice to the wrong people, else they’ll stalk you or something.”

john’s gut tightens. what was his plan again? expose her? he manages a chuckle. “and am i one of those…wrong people?” effortless.

“well, you’re a minute from my kitchen with an invitation. so.” she smirks after a second. “are you fishing for a compliment? for me to say you’re special?”

heat shoots up his neck and colors his cheeks. “i am not–”

“relax. i’m joking. but you are the first customer i’ve brought back to my place.”

the phrasing instantly sets him on high alert. it could mean nothing. it could mean anything.

her place is markedly worse than her fake one. he does not like the look of the neighbors, but the exterior light reaches the walk. he bites his tongue when she veers to the side, cutting down a set of steep stairs to the basement. it won’t do, not long-term.

but the interior of her flat—it’s everything he did and did not expect.

it’s sensibly furnished and lit to compensate for its floor plan and limited windows. it’s cozy and colorful, with artwork fixed to the walls and littering various surfaces. some pieces are more notable than others: tiny statuettes of women, a diptych of a cow, and a collage of what looks like found notes. in the living area, there is a console and a headset, a small collection of games and dvds, and ten too many knickknacks. a stuffed backpack occupies a seat at the table.

he moves mechanically behind her, toeing off his shoes and treading straight into the surprisingly decently sized kitchen. he sets the bags and litter down, rolling his shoulder as he soaks it all in.

might be his only chance, after all.

something bumps his shin. two big amber-colored eyes stare up at him, unblinking.

“you must be the famous cece.”

“the one and only.”

the young cat weaves through his legs, then jumps, immediately sticking her pointy head into the bag containing the chicken. she meows, indignant, when her human automatically hooks her around the middle without looking and returns her to the floor.

“bad.” she murmurs, unpacking. “would you mind setting the litter next to the door down the hall?”

john obeys, though he lingers outside of said door, staring through a crack into the dark of her room. she has a big, comfortable-looking bed. a shudder passes over him. an unhelpful throb. christ. feels like a fucking teenager. he pulls himself together, retreating toward the door to leave. probably overstayed his welcome.

just as he turns to say his goodbyes, she glares from the kitchen. around her neck, untied, hangs an apron—don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“where are you going? i’m making dinner.”

it’s not an invitation. it’s an order.

he slips his shoe off.

“yes, ma’am.”

#price x reader #price x f! reader #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #loser barista #me pingponging back and forth between writing The Horrors and comedic smut and this fluff like a fic obstacle course

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jihyoruri · 6 months

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CHANEL GIRLFRIENDS kim minji x fem!reader

🎸★ ͘ ⴰ yn of lesserafim and minji of new jeans, both are ambassadors of the worldwide known luxury brand chanel, they’re also known as the chanel girlfriends.

a series of short oneshots and compilations that convinced the world that the “chanel girlfriends” are definitely not just two girls who are friends.

PARING — kim minji x lsrfm!reader

minji pulling a reverse card on yn for five minutes 987k views

previous. masterlist. next

🎸★ ͘ ⴰ clip one

"I honestly don't know why filming tiktoks is taken so seriously," yn remarked to the camera as she strolled through the bustling halls of hybe. "filming behind-the-scenes for it seems a bit dramatic, don't you think?" she chuckled, her playful demeanor momentarily halted when her manager shot her a scolding glare

"I think you guys will be happy with who I'm doing this trend with," yn continued, her tone laced with mischief. "on weverse, I mentioned seeing natty and julie from kiss of life do this, and I wanted to try it too, but not with my boring members," she teased, fully aware that her bandmates would likely come for her for the comment later. "so, I asked who you wanted me to do this with, and I'm fulfilling your wishes."

as yn continued her walk, the oldest member of new jeans came into view, waiting for her with a warm smile. yn reciprocated the smile as she introduced minji to the camera, the latter waving in acknowledgment.

“minji will be doing this with me.” yn smiles as the girl waved at the camera.

"this might take a while since I fluster minji a lot," yn remarked to the camera, earning a playful scowl from minji. "anything I do, she will mess up."

“what are you even talking about.” she says yn’s pushing yn’s shoulder lightly, rolling her eyes when yn dramatically throws herself back, “that’s not true.”

after bickering, the girls set up the phone before filming, the audio of the song played and they start, minji points her fingers towards yn keeping her gaze on the girl waiting for her to dance but all yn does is turn away.

“don’t look at me!” she says covering her face and walking away only to be pulled back by minji, “why were you looking so intensely?!”

"I have to look at you, I need to face you, that's part of the trend," minji explained, trying to coax yn’s hands away from her face, chuckling at yn’s visible fluster as she backed away.

"I need to go on a walk," yn declared, feeling overwhelmed by the situation as she dramatically tried to exit.

“what?! no come on let’s do this.”

it took them five times to get in right all thanks to yn, but hey it was worth it in the end the fans loved the video.

🎸★ ͘ ⴰ clip two

yn, completely immersed in the music and the interaction with her fans, spun around in her chair with enthusiasm, belting out the lyrics, the room echoed with her joyous singing as she twirled, lost in the moment.

unbeknownst to her, the door creaked open, revealing minji's arrival. With a mischievous grin, minji grabbed the arm of yn’s spinning chair, abruptly halting its motion and causing yn to let out an unexpected scream of surprise.

"you scared me!" yn exclaimed, hand pressed against her chest as she shot minji a playful glare, though her heart was still racing from the sudden interruption.

minji chuckled at yn’s reaction, unfazed by the accusation. "all I did was stop your chair," she retorted casually, shrugging off yn’s accusation of sneaking up on her.

"no, you snuck up on me!" yn insisted, turning back to face her live audience, who were now buzzing with excitement at minji's unexpected appearance. "she's so obsessed with me that she couldn't wait until after the live to see me."

a blush crept onto minji's cheeks momentarily before she scoffed in disbelief. "what are you even saying at this point?"

"I'm saying you're obsessed," yn teased, continuing to ramble and poke fun at minji, who tried her best to maintain her composure despite the girl's relentless banter. with a sigh, minji glanced at the comments scrolling by, standing behind yn’s chair and wrapping her arms around yn’s shoulders from behind, resting her chin on yn’s head.

"why'd you stop talking?" minji asked, unable to see yn’s face directly since she was now positioned behind her.see.

"you're being touchy,"yn responded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tried to regain her focus, flustered by minji's unexpected affectionate gesture.

🎸★ ͘ ⴰ clip three

minji smiled when yn sat beside her waving to the live, “I came to visit!” yn exclaims.

“it’s been a while since yn has been with me on live right?” minji says while the fans on live comment about how long they’ve been waiting for yn and minji to do a live again.

“you guys better be grateful I’m here.” yn says pointing at the live, “chaewon unnie almost didn’t let me go because it’s our day off.” in reality that wasn’t the reason chaewon almost forced yn home at all, as soon as she heard that yn was going to hang out with a certain new jeans member she flipped, especially after last time.

minji sent yn and alarmed look before reading the comments, “yn tell us about meeting jennie in paris.”

yn’s face lit up and she immediately got into the details of meeting the blackpink member and like always once you get yn to talk about something it’s hard to stop her.

minji, fully engrossed in yn’s storytelling, suddenly noticed how the girl was slightly not in the frame. without missing a beat, she smoothly adjusted, tugging YN's chair closer with a casual, nonchalant gesture, ensuring the girl was perfectly within the frame.

yn paused for a second, obviously feeling slightly flustered by the action.

"what?" minji inquired innocently, her gaze fixed on yn, unwavering and intense.

all yn did was shake her head and get back into her story, while yn was talking to the live, it was like she could feel minji’s gaze on her causing yn to fidget uncomfortably in her seat. finally, unable to ignore the scrutiny, yn turned to meet minji's gaze, only to find the other girl still staring back with slight intensity.

the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks, yn quickly averted her gaze, focusing once again on the live broadcast. "stop that!" she blurted out, hoping to distract herself from the overwhelming feeling of minji’s stare.

#new jeans x reader #kim minji x reader #kim minji #minji x reader #minji #minji new jeans #lesserafim #girl group imagines #new jeans #new jeans imagines

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catmiemy · 5 months

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New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.

A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.

This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!

You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.

How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.

However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?

In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.

Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.

R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.

L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!

You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.

R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.

With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw? As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.

L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!

Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.

R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!

And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.

Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.

First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.

As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.

You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.

At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.

When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.

This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!

The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.

You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.

Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.

R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!

You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.

---

“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”

Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.

“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.

“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.

“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.

A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.

It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.

Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.

Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.

Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!

Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.

Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.

It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.

After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.

Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.

So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.

It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.

“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.

“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.

Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.

---

When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.

The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.

However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.

“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.

“Could be worse,” you replied.

Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.

“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.

For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.

“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.

“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.

“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.

“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.

You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.

“A cuddle?”

Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.

It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.

“Why did you sit all the way over there?”

All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.

Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.

“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.

“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.

Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.

Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.

You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.

In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.

So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.

Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.

Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.

“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.

You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.

Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.

“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.

“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”

Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.

“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.

You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.

“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.

“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.

When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 6 months

Text

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it.

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack.

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s.

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun.

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best.

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening.

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him.

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins.

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no.

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction

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romanreignseater · 2 months

Text

Cinematography. (This Is Cinema ~ Roman’s Part)

Roman Reigns x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; Rough sex, p0rngraphy, oral (m&f receiving), slight spit kink, and other nausty (ikyk) thingsssss..

“Already having made an absolute masterpiece with Mr. Jey Uso, you didn’t think you’d be stepping to the so called “Tribal Chief” so soon. But he put himself next in line and you weren’t mad at it.

A/N: This has been the most requested in my inbox and I have been dying to continue this story/series for you all. Here’s the first part of this series. Thanks for the support on my last Roman fic, what a warm welcome back 🥰🥰. More coming soon, I got a lot of ideas brewing up. AND MY HUSBAND IS BACK, TURN UP BITCHHHHHH 😝😝!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GIF: @jeysuso

It has been about two weeks since your last adult video dropped and it was the talk of the town. Scratch that, it’s talk of the whole world at this point. You filmed with a member of the hottest porn group there is, Mr. Jey Uso, and he most definitely rocked your world. As that video did your bank account.

The video reached 1 million views in just an hour and over the course of two weeks it was at 205 million views. Those numbers meant shopping sprees and palm trees. But, also trips to the masseuse, cause Jey did not play no games with you. He wore you out to the point where your management thought it was best to put you on an “injury reserve” list.

Yeah… it was that bad and honestly unnecessary.

But, good at the same time. Jey made you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. What you didn’t know was a storm was brewing and headed straight for Casa Y/N.

As you stood in your kitchen making yourself some shrimp alfredo pasta with your teacup poodle, Rex, by your side being your little sous chef. The doorbell rang. Rex instantly began barking and running to the front door, trying his best to be your guard dog.

“Rex, calm your little ass down.” You yelled as turned the stove off and moved the pan of pasta to the side, wiped your hands and headed to the front door. You had no clue as to who was at the door, you weren’t expecting any company. Maybe it was a package, as your online spending habits always seem to leave your mind the second you purchased something. Or maybe fan mail, as you tend to get a lot of those from random men wanting to marry you.

“Rex back up from this door and stop all that barking please.” Rex sat quietly and tilted his head curiously to the side as you opened the huge door. You were surprised to see manager, Vanessa, standing at the door with a big grin on her face. As you opened the door even more, your breath completely stopped and your heart skipped a beat. Stood next to Vanessa was a 6’ 3, tatted, tan, and muscular Samoan with the face of a Greek god.

Your mouth stood agape as you admired his innate beauty, glaring at you with that smirk… that smirk that possessed all the women he’d ever worked with. Made them shrivel in their panties, made them wet for days, and made them absolutely numb to his body and his body only.

Roman Motherfuckin’ Reigns.

The leader of this adult film group aka “The Bloodline”, stood at your front door, with your manager. You couldn’t believe it!! Roman only had 8 videos up… 8 videos!! He’s only ever worked with 5 women in his entire pornstar career and they were quite the professionals. But now he stands at your door, which you could only guess what that means.

“Earth to Y/N, yoohoo. Y/N!!” You snapped back into reality as Vanessa began clapping her hands in your face. “Vanessa, where I’m from clapping your hands in someone’s face means you wanna fight. So, let’s not do that again. Got it?!” Vanessa looked taken aback as Roman just laughed with that dreamy chuckle of his.

“She is really feisty Nessa, just like you said, I like that.. a lot.” Roman whispered that last part into your ear so sensually that it made you want to take your phone and make this tape right here at the front door. But you remained professional as you knew Roman didn’t mess with little fan girls. He only worked with confident women who are professional and know what they want out of him.

And boy oh boy, you knew exactly what you wanted from him.

“Well let’s not waste any time with the long introductions. Y/N, Roman. Roman, Y/N. Shake hands and let’s get this party started.” Vanessa waltzed her way right into your home and picking up Rex in the process as she then said, “Ooo, is that alfredo I smell girl?!” You both watched as Nessa helped herself into the kitchen to feast on the meal you prepared for yourself.

“Your manager is really something, but she’s definitely a smart one and knows what she’s doing with you.” You faced Roman as you just gazed into his chocolate brown eyes as he did to yours. “Yeah that’s my girl. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?!” Roman removes your hand from the door, lets himself in and shut the door behind him. He then immediately picks you up and flings you over his shoulder. You gasped and begin giggling uncontrollably.

He gives a firm smack to your ass and heads his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, imma have fun with you baby.”

You bit your lip as you let Roman navigate his way through your home by following the smell of the pasta which would lead to where Vanessa stood chowing down per usual.

“Okay Groot, put my girl down. She’s on the injury reserve list and I can’t afford to have her down for another week.” You mentally curse out Nessa for mentioning this stupid injury reserve thing in front of Roman. He sets you down and takes a seat on the barstool across from Vanessa on the kitchen island.

“How did you get injured?!” He stares at you with curiosity in his eyes as you weren’t bandaged up, nor needing any sort of crutches or wheelchair. You played with your nails as you looked around the room trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Welllll… it’s kind of a long story. See what-.”

“Oh my god, she’s taking too long. Her last porno with your cousin, Jey. Messed. Her. Up. She’s been done up ever since.” Roman’s eyes moved from Vanessa’s to yours. You shut them not even daring to look back at him.

“Oh please, when I’m done with her she’ll be on that list for months. Why do you think I’ve only worked with 5 women my whole career?! Cause I broke em’ down, claiming they could take it but always proved me wrong. With you though… I know it’ll be different.”

Roman said that as he stood behind you massaging your ass with one hand and massaging your neck with the other. Roman’s massive hand travels from the back of your neck to the front of it as he choked you out. His hand on your lower half took the same route to your front, rubbing your pussy through your shorts. His pillow soft lips laid kisses all over your face, but grazing your lips every time you thought he was gonna go in for a kiss.

You completely crumbled. Cupping your entire clothed mound in his hand, massaging and torturing you. Making you squirm for his viewing pleasure. You lose your breath and awareness of your surroundings as he begins rubbing you out harder and enforcing a rougher choke around your neck.

“Ummmm, get your hands off my girl. You ain’t sign this contract yet.” Vanessa said with a mouthful of pasta, throwing the contract down in front of you both.

“Yeah you’re right. Can’t fuck the shit out of her without this little deal we curated.” Roman released you from the shackles of his hands and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Wait, what deal?!” You stared at your manager trying to regain your breath, as she continued to slurp down the pasta.

“Wellll… you see, what had happened wasss.” You looked at Vanessa in utter disbelief as she was out her making “deals” without your approval.

“Ah she’s taking too long.” Roman began to speak on Vanessa’s behalf. “We have curated a little deal princess, where we will have a committed “porn” relationship. Basically committing to film with each other, and each other only for a period of time. But as of right now, we’re doing a little tester. Seeing if we have the chemistry before we go lighting any sparks here.”

You stood giggling not minding the sound of this little “deal”. But you can’t help but notice that Roman’s come flocking after your tape with Jey and you’ve heard about the slight competition between the both of them.

“Okayyyy, and why now?! Is it because I filmed with your little cousin and you’re nervous he’s doing bigger numbers and has bigger things than you honey?!” You continued your uncontrollable giggles as you looked to Vanessa who stopped in her tracks.

Roman shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Those words deeply triggered him. Him and Jey were always in competition with one another. Since they were in little league football to now slanging that dick for all of America to see. Despite Jey being a twin, they were more of an inseparable duo rather than frenemies.

Of course Roman had immense amounts of love for his family, he helped bring them into the industry and helped change all of their lives for the better. But he was a firm believer of not letting the people you allowed in to over throw you. He stood at the Head of the Table and he wasn’t gonna allow little cousin Jey to take that from him.

“Vanessa… call the camera crew.”

——————————————————————————

You didn’t even sign the contract and a camera crew was at your home setting up for what you could only assume was gonna be an absolute movie.

Roman didn’t speak to you after asking Nessa to invite the camera crew over. He must’ve not liked to hear you compare him to Jey, but it was all harmless fun… well to you at least.

You find Roman and Nessa in your bedroom with the camera crew setting up angles all around your bed. You slowly walked up from behind your bedroom door and Roman and Nessa looked up towards you. “Well don’t you look all cutesy girl. I haven’t seen you this dressed up since your first ever video..”

You visibly cringed at Nessa constant embarrassment of you as Roman chuckled his life away. “At least she’s all dressed up for a good reason. A great one at that." You dressed in your best lingerie. Red, tight, and riddled with lace.

Just how you liked it and assuming that’s how Roman liked it as well by the way he was eyeing you down.

“How about we get started, why don’t we?!” Roman sat on your Queen sized bed and waited patiently for you sit next to him. You slowly walked to the bed, as if you were unfamiliar with it. “This is your house, your bed sweetheart. Why you being all shy?! I don’t bite, well I might not bite right now.”

You blush and take a seat next to Roman on your bed. You look at Roman as he tells the main camera man where to stand.

“Sooo… there’s no game plan?! Just jumping straight into it?!” Most stars you’ve worked with have a certain setup for how their videos began and Roman seemingly didn’t have one. Most of his films sort of jumped straight into the last minutes of foreplay, then cut right to the sex.

“Sweetheart, this is my show and I’m running it. Just follow my lead and follow like a good girl, alright?!” Roman’s deep voice put you into a trance and hearing him call you a good girl nearly made you drool.

“Oh-okay.”

Roman pats my thigh and smiles at me.

“Good girl.”

He then signals the cameraman, which prompted him to start a countdown.

“In 5…

4…

3…

2…

1…”

He signals his finger towards us meaning that the camera is rolling. Staring directly into the lens, you were completely frozen. Your nerves began to get the best of you and those jitters you had when you first became an adult film star all came back.

You could feel the warmth of Roman peer closer to you. He places one of his large hands on your thigh and the other on your face, making you look him dead in his eyes.

“Don’t be nervous alright. Daddy’s got you.”

Before you could respond, Roman blesses your lips with a passionate kiss. Our lips smacking together in sensual harmony. His tongue swirled on the inside of your mouth, exploring every part of it.

Then the kiss became even slower. Your tongues fighting in a brute of passion, trying to figure out who asserted the most dominance. And of course… the Head of the Table won.

He moves from his spot next to you on the bed and stands in front of at the edge of the bed. He begins to massage your taut breasts through your lingerie, before removing it completely.

“Fuck baby, you look amazing.”

His comment only added to your nervousness, but his heavenly kiss brought you back to down to Earth.

He catches you by surprise as he yanks your hips to the edge of the bed and rips your soaked panties clean off. He spread your legs wide causing the glory of wetness to be revealed to him and the camera.

“You real wet huh mama?! Want Daddy to eat you out??”

You could only nod as his breath nearing your pussy could only cause you to shiver. He smirks and lowers his head down into your heat.

He begins eats you out messily, tossing your knees over his shoulders, and circling your clit until you soak his beard. He then sucked on each individual fold, licking and slurping covering it in saliva. You became a whimpering mess as he shook his head ferociously against your clit, with eyes rolling back, hands tangled in his luxurious hair and legs shaking and closing around his head.

“I’m gonna cum Dadddyyyyy.”

“Let it go mama.”

Your legs enclosed Roman’s head as they shook with maximum strength. Your back arched off the bed and Roman’s fingers gripped your thighs harshly, definitely leaving marks later.

You pant heavily, trying to regain your breath from the insane climax Roman just gave you. Without wasting anytime, he took his tank top off as well as his sweatpants and boxers.

His body a legit masterpiece. Sculpted by the gods.

Shocking you once again, he grasps the back of your knees, forcing them together and then crushing them into your tits. The head of his cock glides against your cunt, still convulsing from the feeling of that climax.

Roman slams into you, not giving you any time to adjust. He just pounds you into the mattress. The room was filled with sounds, only sounds. The grunts and the wet slaps of his pelvis smacking against yours over and over again with his hand between your legs, rubbing your wet cunt and the place where it stretched around him.

“You like that mama?!”

“You feel it in your stomach, huh?!”

“Daddy’s going in real deep huh?!”

Your entire bed shook, the headboard slammed into the wall to the point where you believed the drywall began to crumble and holes will most definitely appear later on. You begin taking mental notes to tell Vanessa to send Roman a bill for your damaged wall.

His moans made you even wetter than you were before. It almost sounded like he was whimpering over your pussy.

Was the big man really whimpering over how good your pussy is?!

Before you could even relish in the sounds of his moans more, you legs shook once again as you felt your climax approaching and it was approaching fast.

Roman caught on to your short gasps and convulsing legs, he then began beating up your sweet cunt. Throwing your knees to the side of your head, making them touch your silk sheets. Pounding into you harshly, not missing a beat until you squirted all over his lower half and the sheets underneath you.

“Oh my goodness.” You let out an exasperated laugh as you closed your legs together to staph off that feeling. You winced as Roman let out a sharp smack to your ass. You opened your eyes as you watched him pleasure himself in front of you.

“Come suck this dick mama.”

Say no more.

You followed as Roman laid down and you took the position in between his legs, sniper style.

You grabbed at his flesh pole and it felt so hot and heavy in your hands. He most certainly was big. Like BIG. Although you didn’t want to compare lengths, Roman was massive compared to his cousin Jey. Maybe he liked to call him lil cuz for a reason.

“Whatchu you keep staring at?! Get to it princess.”

You innocently brought your mouth down and sucked the head. Moaning with his cock in your mouth and hands massaging at this balls. You slobbered down his length, bobbing your up and down head slowly. You peer your eyes up as you listened to the moaning and groaning Roman made from the moment you made contact with his member. His legs shook as you continued the pleasure.

His eyes rolled back and he grabbed the back of your head, bobbing your head up and down. Your eyes watered and you gagged as he stalled his hips in your mouth.

His cum coated the entirety of your throat. He groaned as you swallowed his cum while he was still in your mouth. His strong arms brought you up as he gave you a long kiss. Intaking all his cum and yours from earlier in each other’s mouths. A string of saliva hung from your lips to his. You both smile at each other, looking each other in the eyes.

“And… CUT!!”

You slightly jumped as you completely forgot about the tape you guys were filming. “That was absolutely perfect guys. Roman, Y/N… you both got a money maker on your hands right here.”

The camera crew began to clean up and take down the lights and mics. Roman tried to help you up off the bed, but you were so weak in the knees you couldn’t stand.

“I think we’ll keep on that list sweetie.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment and he began to chuckle. “Whatever Roman, just let me sit for a little.”

He smiled at you once more before he lowered himself to your ear. “Definitely better than Lil’ Jey huh?!”

This man is a problemmmm…

A good one though.

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THE END.

HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED 💕💕!! Probably my fave Roman fic to date!!

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Let me know if you’ll like to be added to my tag squadddddd!!!

#roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x black reader

401 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 11 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.

warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33

author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way.

It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.

Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party.

You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.

“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.”

It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.

The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier.

“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”

You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar.

It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier.

“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?”

You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger.

“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”

You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier.

“Why did you leave?”

A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t.

“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.”

The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it.

It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken.

“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.”

We would never break up.

The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.

The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?”

You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.

But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.

“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, you okay?”

The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.

You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”

You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s.

“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”

“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”

Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”

You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class.

“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.

Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”

You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”

“We’ll always be that.”

There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again.

The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.

When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug.

You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong?

Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for.

“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you.

For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.

You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away.

It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.

Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you.

Steve was different and he always would be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover.

Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.

The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.

You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell.

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you.

“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”

You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”

“You hate driving in rain.”

“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”

“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in.

You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.”

Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.”

You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”

Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.

“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”

You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground.

You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you.

The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried.

Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss.

When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington

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zepskies · 3 months

Text

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him.

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work.

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation.

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested.

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to.

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home.

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes.

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week.

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away.

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said.

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time.

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked.

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand.

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said.

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch.

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder.

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows.

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter.

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said.

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family.

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you.

“So you said he was struggling?” he said.

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer.

“What substances?” Colter asked.

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well.

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could.

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks.

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand.

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said.

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.”

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.”

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck.

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well.

“Okay,” he said.

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother.

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise.

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked.

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said.

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern.

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy.

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated.

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy.

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said.

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them.

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum.

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide.

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment.

“Oh great,” you muttered.

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look.

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said.

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked.

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…”

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement.

“No…”

That voice was all too familiar.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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harrywavycurly · 11 days

Note

What about Harry getting all flustered in the Lonely series? He’s always saving and reassuring us but what’s a time when he’d need us to relax him?🥺❤️

Hiii lovey!!! I agree he does seem to be really good at reassuring you so it’ll be nice to see you calming him down in a moment of panic for him, so I hope this is what you’re looking for!💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

CW: Language

A/N: Harry just wants to enjoy a lunch date with you before your Miami trip but things don’t go the way he wants, enjoy some protective Harry with a healthy dash of you being sweet and fluffy with him✨

“He’s so much prettier in person.”

“God I know.”

“What do you think he smells like?”

You just smile to yourself as you walk past the group of girls on your way to take a seat at your usual table that’s tucked away in the corner near the window of the cafe down the street of your old house. You slip off your sunglasses and place them in your purse before hanging it on the edge of your chair, you take a quick glance over to the counter area to check on Harry to see if he needs your assistance and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh when you see him because even after all these years he still somehow manages to give you butterflies whenever you spot him across a crowded room.

He’s standing against the wall with one hand tucked into the front pocket of his well fitting jeans and the other holding his phone, trying to be out of the way of people picking up their orders but also trying his best to not be that noticeable but the black short sleeve button up he opted to wear this morning isn’t helping due to it allowing his most recognizable tattoos to be on display. Along with the fact that he just has one of those faces that even with his sunglasses on people could point out in a crowded room especially when he smiles like he is at you right now, making his signature dimples appear. You return the smile and even shoot him a playful wink before you look away and turn your attention towards your wedding binder your wedding planner gave you that has all the little details in it for your big day, you flip it to the page that is all about your bachelorette trip so you can go over the checklist one more time.

“Oh my god.” You look up when you hear a sudden gasp coming from next to you and when you’re met with a pair of wide eyes you just give the girl a warm smile and sit up a bit so you can give her your full attention. “I know you.” She blurts and you know she regrets saying it the moment the words come out of her mouth based on how pink her cheeks get.

“Hi there.” You watch her try to gather her thoughts so you just reach your hand out and gently place your hand on her arm. “I love your shirt.” You tell her as you look at her Love On Tour shirt that looks like she tye dyed herself before you remove your hand from her arm trying to help her relax a bit and when she smiles at you before looking down at her shirt you know it seems to have worked a bit.

“Oh thank you uh-are you uhm here with Harry?” You just smile and nod as your eyes flicker behind her to the man himself who you know is watching the scene that’s happening at the table intensely. “Congrats on the uhm-uh engagement.” Her voice is shaky as she starts to mess with the bracelets on her wrists and you just give her another smile and reach both hands out to grab hers.

“Thank you that’s so sweet of you.” You give her hands a little squeeze before letting them go. “What’s your name?” You ask as you quickly look behind her to see Harry’s status and you feel a bit anxious when you see him at the counter grabbing your order meaning he was going to be heading this way any minute.

“Stephanie.” She answers with a nervous smile and you just nod.

“Well Stephanie I can tell Harry you said hello if you’d like?” You ask and then your eyes catch a glimpse of someone walking up behind her and you look at them with a raised brow and they just nod making you grin as you look back at Stephanie. “Or Stephanie you can tell him yourself?” You watch her face go from one of confusion to pure shock as Harry’s tattooed arm comes into her view when he reaches over to hand you your iced coffee.

“Hello Stephanie.” His voice saying her name makes her cheeks go a deep shade of pink as she slowly turns around and faces him as he slides his sunglasses up into his hair so he can look down at her. “S’lovely to meet you.” He says with a smile as you quickly reach for the bag that has both of your sandwiches in it and his iced latte so his hands are free to give her a hug.

“You’re Harry Styles.” She mumbles into his chest when his arms wrap around her and he just chuckles in response, you take your seat and just watch the two of them as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Oh love the shirt.” He says when he pulls away from the hug.

“She-she said that too.” Stephanie stutters as she looks at you just as you take a bite of your sandwich making Harry laugh as you place a hand over your mouth and just try your best to smile and nod.

“Hungry sweetheart? Can’t even wait for me? That’s a bit rude innit?” He teases and Stephanie just giggles making Harry smile because he always loves when someone laughs at his jokes even when they are just silly teasing ones like this. “Well it was a pleasure meeting you love, have a good rest of your day okay?” With that Harry gives her one more quick hug before she says a quick thank you and she’s off rushing over to her friends.

“She was cute.” You say after you swallow your bite of sandwich as Harry takes his seat across from you. “What?” You ask when you hear Harry let out a sigh but he just shakes his head as he takes his sunglasses off and tucks them into his shirt before he reaches over to grab one of your hands.

“Nothing baby.” You tilt your head and give him a questioning look as he brings your hand up to his lips. “I love you.” Is all he says before you feel him place a few kisses to your knuckles.

“I love you too.” He just smiles as he lets you take your hand out of his so you can grab his sandwich out of the bag and hand it to him.

Harry normally doesn’t mind meeting fans, he loves them and he knows it takes a lot to actually come up to him and say hello so he never tries to make anyone feel uncomfortable but there are times when he would like to be left alone. Those times are often when he’s out with other people, like his family, friends or for instance right now when he’s just trying to have lunch with you, his fiancé before you leave him for a whole week for your bachelorette trip in Miami. He knows that talking to Stephanie is going to make others feel more comfortable coming up to him to say hello and honestly he’d prefer that over what he sees happening over your shoulder. For Harry it’s the recordings and all the random photos that get snapped of you he doesn’t like, he never has enjoyed the idea that people just have videos and pictures of you on their phones all because you know him or now because you’re engaged to him.

“Harry?” You reaching over and grabbing his hand breaks him out of his thoughts causing him to slightly shake his head before he looks across the table at you, you’re looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a slight frown on your face. Harry gives your hand a firm squeeze but the smile he gives you to try to make you think he’s fine just makes you glare at him in response because you can read him like a book by now, you know something is bothering him and it’s been bothering him since he sat down across from you twenty minutes ago.

“Sorry sweetheart what did you say?” He asks as he glances down at the table and sees the checklist for your trip and he has to rub his lips together to hide the frown that was threatening to take over his face when he catches the time of your flight tomorrow morning.

You let out a huff and slide your hand out of his so you can close your binder and slide it off to the side, you fold your arms on top of the table and stare at Harry and he does good for a solid ten seconds and then he slips up, you catch his eyes glance over your shoulder in the same direction Stephanie walked off in. You quickly act as if you’re looking in your purse that’s hanging on your chair so you can try to see what’s caught his attention, you catch the same group of girls you walked by earlier sitting at their table all with their eyes glued to their phones that all seem to be pointed in your direction.

“Is that what’s bothering you?” You ask with a raised brow when you turn your attention back to him and away from the table of girls.

“I just wanted this to be a nice lunch and-”

“Are you saying it hasn’t been nice?” Harry playfully glares at you in response to your teasing question making you smile as you reach over and hold your hand out for him. “It’s just a few teenage girls Harry it’s not a big deal.” And as if on queue you catch something in your peripheral vision out the window making you turn your head to see what’s going on outside and the moment you do you’re met with a young girl waving at you who is standing next to a man holding a professional camera aimed towards Harry.

“It never stays just a few fans it always turns into more.” Is all Harry says when you look away from the window and back to him as he reaches down and grabs the hand that you were holding out for him. “If we leave now we can still probably walk to that little shop down the street that sells those god awful sour candies you love so we can get you some for your trip.” You know he’s going over all the exit strategies in his head as he talks, as you watch his eyes glance from your face to the window and then to the table of fans behind you.

“They aren’t god awful you just have horrible-”

“We need to go.” The tone of Harry’s voice is what tells you to just nod and let go of his hand so you can start to grab your things, it’s not one he uses with you often because it’s deep but laced with a hint of almost anger that you know is not directed at you. “Now. Please love.” He tries to be softer this time when he notices you taking a little too long to get your stuff and he even gives you a smile as he stands up and leans over to grab your wedding planning binder for you, tucking it under his arm while you throw your purse over your shoulder before standing up. You glance out the window and see a few more cameras aimed at the two of you and now a small group of fans has gathered around the entrance of the cafe as well.

“Hey look at me.” You reach for his hand and interlock your fingers with his and give it a nice firm squeeze as he locks eyes with you. “I’m right here and I’m fine.” You reassure him with a smile and while normally you aren’t the biggest fan of kissing in public at this moment in time you know what Harry needs to help calm him down so you don’t hesitate to reach your free hand up place it on his cheek as you lean in and give his lips a quick peck.

“Thank you.” He mumbles before he steals a second kiss before you can fully pull away from him making you giggle as you drop your hand from his face. “Remember the rules sweetheart?” You roll your eyes as you grab your sunglasses out of your bag and slide them back on your face.

“Don’t talk to them..just keep walking and don’t touch them and they won’t touch you…just like at a haunted house.”

“Perfect it’s like you’ve done this before or something.”

“Only once or twice but one time I did tell a photographer to fu-”

“Yeah let’s not have any repeats of Vegas okay?”

“Fine but I’m warning you now if they call my ring ugly I’m going to say something.” Harry just laughs and shakes his head as he looks down at you while you finish off your iced coffee before tossing it in the trash.

“Ready baby?” You just nod and feel him give your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go, he quickly puts on his sunglasses and leads you to the entrance of the cafe giving the table of fans a smile as he walks by earning a few gasps and one loud squeal making you just smile because you get it, he is indeed squeal and gasp worthy. Harry hands you the wedding binder so that once you’re outside he will be able to pull you close to his side with one arm and keep the other free just in case someone tries to get too close for his liking.

“Bet you five bucks they ask the reunion at the wedding question.” You joke trying your best to lighten the mood while you can because you know the moment he pushes open the cafe door Harry is going to switch over into the protective side of himself that you’ve seen quite a bit of ever since the first time you got caught in a swarm of cameras and fans with him years ago.

“Damn you always have to beat me don’t you? I was just about to say that” You just shrug making him chuckle as he gives you one last once over as if he’s making sure you have everything and you’re actually ready to go.

“Snooze you lose Styles now let’s go get me some candy.” Harry nods as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your cheek making you smile as you tighten your hold on the binder in your hands as Harry gently pushes open the cafe door, him walking out first with you right behind him. He is quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side allowing him to put distance between you and the group of men with cameras and the few fans that have gathered outside.

“Harry! How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Is it true Niall’s the best man?”

“Can we see the ring?”

“Who’s on the guest list? Will we get a One Direction reunion for the wedding?”

You try not to laugh as you feel Harry’s grip on you tighten the moment the question gets hurled at the two of you as you make your way down the sidewalk towards the little shop. Harry on the other hand keeps a tight lipped smile on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the people surrounding the two of you, but luckily no one seems to be getting too close or shouting rude things. That all changes in what feels like a matter of seconds when you feel a hand on your back giving you a slight pat but before you can even turn your head to see who it is that needs your attention Harry is sliding his arm from your shoulders down to your waist and you feel his hand gently give your hip a little nudge and in one smooth motion you’re standing directly in front of him.

“Watch the hell out.” You internally flinch at the harshness of Harry’s voice as you feel his hand on your hip give you a firm squeeze, his way of letting you know he’s got you. He has his chest practically flush with your back while his head is turned to look at the man who thought it was okay to tap you on the back, and if you turned your head to look at Harry you’d see his nostrils a bit flared along with slightly flushed cheeks letting you know he’s angry. “Bloody prick.” He snaps at the man who is just a mere foot away from the two of you with his camera in his hand.

“Harry come on-”

“What makes you think you can just touch her?” There’s no kindness in his voice and he really doesn’t mean to cut you off but Harry just can’t let this go, not when the man hasn’t even tried to say sorry or really anything at all. You can practically feel the anger radiating off of him when you feel his hand leave your hip so he can fully turn around to face the man. “Better yet what makes you think it’s okay to fucking touch her and not even say sorry?” You look around and see a few phones out, no doubt recording the whole situation so you quickly turn around and place your hand on Harry’s back making him turn his head to look at you.

“It’s okay it was an accident and won’t happen again.” You explain as you look from Harry to the man standing in front of him and you know based on the wide eyed expression on the man’s face you’re lucky to just get a nod in response, looking to be in a state of shock. “So let’s just all maybe take a few steps back please.” You suggest as you look around and watch as almost everyone around the two of you take some small steps backwards giving you and Harry a bit of breathing room.

“That’s not good enough.” You’re thankful that your sunglasses block your eye roll from Harry because you know he wouldn’t appreciate your sass right now but you know that the man standing in front of the two of you is in no way in the right mental state to say much of anything right now. “He needs to say sorry.” He adds as he finally looks down at you and you take this moment to place a hand on his cheek.

“Baby.” Harry lets out a sigh and leans into your touch as the petname leaves your lips and it’s as if all the anger and frustration he was feeling just seconds beforehand is slowly but surely fading away as you run your thumb over his cheek. Now normally you save calling him anything other than Harry for special occasions but sometimes you have to bring out the big guns to get him to focus on what you’re about to say.

“Please let’s just go.” Harry just nods and it’s as if he forgets the two of you are standing on a sidewalk outside of one of your favorite cafes as he turns his head so his lips land on the inside of your palm before he brings one of his hands up and wraps it around your wrist.

“Okay sweetheart.” He leans down and places a kiss to your forehead before he brings your hand down from his face and turns around so he can lead you further down the street towards the shop you wanted to get your candy from. “I’ll call for the car while you shop for your sweets does that sound good love?” You just smile as he brings your hand up to his lips giving the top of it a little peck.

“Fine but don’t think I forgot you owe me five bucks.” Harry just laughs as he drops your hand so he can once again wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side.

You look around and feel relief wash over you when it seems most of the crowd has stayed near the cafe and only a few photographers have followed the two of you but at a much more bearable distance. You know for the rest of the day Harry isn’t going to let you get more than an arms length away from him and that’s if he’s being generous, he was already feeling clingy due to the fact he’s about to be away from you for a week but this is just going to make him take it up a notch. So you aren’t at all shocked when you feel him rest his chin on your shoulder as one of his arms wrap around your waist from behind while you pick out the candy you want for your flight, your wedding binder securely tucked under his other arm so your hands are free. It also doesn’t come as a surprise when you feel his hands practically pull you into his lap the moment the car door closes and the two of you are headed home, his face buried in the crook of your neck while his arms wrap around your middle holding onto you as if he’s worried you might slip away if he loosens his grip.

“It’s okay.” You whisper softly as you run a hand through his hair while moving just a bit so you can get into a more comfortable position, with your legs straddling his thighs. “I’m okay.” You reassure him before placing a kiss to the side of his head, you hear him let out a deep sigh as he tries to pull you even closer to him making your chest flush with his and you know in this moment he just needs to feel as close to you as he can so you allow him to squish you a bit.

“Do you remember when we first got photographed together?” You ask as you continue to run your hand through his hair, you take him giving your middle a small squeeze as your queue to continue. “I don’t remember what we were doing exactly I just remember you were holding my backpack and of course I’ll never forget what they called me it was-”

“Unnamed college girl.” You laugh as Harry finishes your sentence for you as he sits up making your hand fall to the back of his neck. “I picked you up from class because I was on a break from tour and I’m a proper gentleman so I carried your backpack but you were wearing a jumper with your university’s name on it and I wanted to hold your hand but you were being mean and told me no because it would start dating rumors.” You watch him give you the fakest pout he can muster as he looks down at you making you playfully roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m always just so mean to you aren’t I?” Harry nods but you see him struggling to keep up his fake pout as you lean in and place a kiss to his cheek.

“Leaving me for a whole week is the meanest thing you’ve ever done.” You want to laugh but you hold it in as you lean over and give his other cheek a kiss. “You’re gonna be spending all this time with Niall while I’m just sat at home missing you.” He adds with a bit more of a whine to his voice.

“We’ve gone longer without seeing each other Harry.” You remind him but he just rolls his eyes at you making you quirk a brow at him. “What? It’s true we’ve gone months-”

“That was before I realized I was in love with you and now I can’t-no I won’t ever go months without seeing you ever again that just can’t happen I won’t-”

“Hey.” Your voice is soft and just a little above a whisper as you bring your hands up to cup his face, you can feel his heart beating faster while his hold on you tightens and his eyes are staring into yours with an intensity that lets you know he’s on the verge on a small panic attack. “I’m right here.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks as you feel him let out a few deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

“I hate this.” He closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours. “I already miss you and you haven’t even left yet.” He feels silly for saying it but he knows you’ll understand, you always do.

The thing you’ve learned about Harry over the years is that when he loves someone he doesn’t know how to not give all of himself to them. People sometimes say he comes off a little too strongly but you know it’s because for so long he never knew where he was going to be in a day or a week so he just now has a habit of telling people how he feels the moment he feels it so he doesn’t run the risk of never having the moment to say it again, and for some that can just come off as a bit much. But not to you, you live for those moments even back when the love he had for you was strictly platonic it was still nice to hear how much he cared for you but now when he stops what he’s doing to just stare at you and tells you he loves you it makes your heart feel like it’s on fire in the best way.

“One time I cried in the bathroom of my apartment because you were leaving in two days.” You admit making Harry open his eyes and lean back so he can look at you with your hands still on his face. “I just knew it was going to suck because you were headed off to Live On Tour and you were just so busy and I didn’t know when I was going to be able to squeeze myself into your schedule so I full on panic cried in the bathroom while you were still sitting in my living room eating my leftover pizza.” Harry can’t help but give you a look and you know that when he opens his mouth he is going to try to apologize for all the times he’s ever had to leave you during the last ten years so you just shake your head and give him a smile. “I think that just means we must really like each other or something.” You joke as you lean in and place a kiss to his lips making him smile when you pull away.

“I love you.” You smile before he leans in for another kiss while your hands go from his face down to the back of his head pulling him closer to you.

“I love you too.” You respond as you finally pull away making Harry let out a sigh of content as you feel the car come to a stop. Harry turns to look out the window and smiles when he sees the front gate opening up leading up to the driveway of the house the two of you share. “I still can’t believe we are gate people.” Harry laughs as he loosens his hold on you so you can reach over and grab your purse making sure to put both his and your sunglasses inside since they got tossed to the seat next to you the moment the two of you got into the car.

“Baby we have to be gate people or else anyone could just be in front of our house.”

“As if they don’t just stand outside the gate?”

“The gate is a safety measure sweetheart.” You just let out a huff as you slide off Harry’s lap and into the seat next to him, Harry just chuckles at your dramatics because he knows the real reason you make a fuss about the gate is because you always forget your gate opener so you have to enter the code which you also always forget resulting in Harry either coming out and opening it for you or him texting you the code if he’s not home. “Speaking of safety measures who’s on security in Miami?” Harry asks as the passenger door opens and he slides out and holds his hand out for you to take so he can help you out of the car.

“Niall.” Harry rolls his eyes as you hand him the binder instead of giving him your hand as you climb out of the car.

“Niall? No love I mean who is your security while you’re there?” You stop walking and place a hand on your hip as Harry makes his way up the front steps towards the front door. “Baby? Did you-why are..you looking at me like that?” He’s at the top of the steps looking at you, binder in one hand and the bag from the candy shop along with the house key in his other.

“Harry we’ve been over this already.” You watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion making you glare at him from the bottom step. “I’m taking Preston and Niall has the rest handled with his team.” You watch it all hit him that he has in fact heard this information before as you finally join him at the top of the steps.

“You think Preston is enough?” He asks as he unlocks the front door allowing you to enter first, you shoot him a look as you slide your shoes off and head for the stairs.

“Of course he’s enough. He’s Preston.” You answer as you drop your purse onto the couch before heading up the stairs. “But I am so telling him you asked me that.” You threaten making Harry’s eyes go a bit wide as he drops his keys on the table by the front door, you just laugh to yourself when you look over your shoulder and see him staring at you from the bottom of the stairs.

“Always so mean to me.”

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dreamwritesimagines · 9 months

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The Eye of the Hurricane [3] - Payback

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ I hope you’ll like it, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️

Summary: Guests shouldn't overstay their welcome.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You loved your best friend, you would die for her without hesitation but even you had to admit that to this day, her priorities still managed to surprise you.

“Someone shot at you and I wasn’t there? How dare you?”

You twirled the spoon in your hot chocolate. “Becca…”

“Seriously, I miss the one time someone has the audacity to try that shit?” Becca asked. “And Bucky was there instead of me? Ugh, the timing…”

“I promise I’ll call you the next time someone starts shooting at me.”

“You’d better,” she insisted. “And you didn’t even text me that night, I had to hear it from Bucky when he asked me where we got your dress from.”

You bit back a smile threatening to curl your lips.

“He shouldn’t have bothered,” you murmured. “I don’t want or need any gifts from him.”

She stole a look at you, then heaved a sigh and reached out to squeeze at your hand.

“I can’t believe you almost got taken.”

“I can’t believe someone hired a group of amateurs,” you corrected her. “I mean how rude is that? At least send a professional, you know? Where are their manners?”

“I heard Steve is still questioning the guy,” she said, taking her tea cup to her lips. “If he’s working for someone we know…”

“I doubt it.”

“So do I, but—” she paused for a moment. “Do you think this might break the truce?”

“No way,” you said. “I was unharmed and we don’t know who they are working for. Not to mention my father is too smart to break the truce.”

“Is Ian?” she asked nonchalantly and you shook your head.

“Ian isn’t the one calling the shots.”

“Thankfully,” she said, leaning back on her chair. “But he will use any and all excuses to start a war once he is the one calling the shots and the truce will be over.”

You pursed your lips before shaking your head.

“I’ll find a way to stop it,” you said. “That dickhead is not going to ruin everything our families worked for, no way.”

Becca waved her hands in the air.

“Ugh, let’s change the topic,” she said. “So you’re getting back together with your ex then?”

“It was just one dinner,” you said. “And he barely counts as an ex, really. We dated for a short time, and didn’t really spend much time outside bed.”

She wiggled her brows. “Well if you’re so eager to catch up with him after years, I’d say it was a pretty good time.”

A smile warmed your face.

“He was nice,” you said. “Nicer than most of my college boyfriends really.”

“Have you talked to him since the shoot-out?”

You paused for a moment, cradling the hot chocolate mug between your hands.

“I considered texting him but I doubt he wants to talk to me considering how disastrous that date was.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I wouldn’t call a shoot-out a disastrous date.”

“He actually got shot, Becca,” you reminded her. “He had to go to the hospital.”

“Alright but there are worse dates!” she insisted. “There was that one time back in college, a guy whipped out his guitar to spontaneously serenade me on a first date, that’s much worse than getting shot at.”

“I don’t disagree,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Wasn’t there also that one girl who talked about her ex throughout your date?”

“Still not as terrible as the serenade guy.”

You shot her a grin before sipping your hot chocolate. “I guess I could text Ethan,” you said. “He probably doesn’t want to see me again but I feel like I should apologize so…”

“And maybe he can ask you out on a second date when you see him again.”

“I really don’t think so—” you started but your phone started vibrating on the table, making you stop talking. You took a look at the screen, your frown deepening as you did.

“Why is Bucky calling you?” Becca asked with a small laugh and you scoffed, then hit decline.

“Must be an accident,” you said. “Anyways I was going to tell you, you remember that girl from—”

This time, it was Becca’s phone that started vibrating. She raised her brows and bit back a smile, then answered the phone.

“Yes Bucky?” she asked and stole a look at you. “Why?”

You ran a hand over your face, then mouthed “don’t” but Becca ignored you.

“What am I, your assistant?” she asked Bucky, then rolled her eyes as she listened to him. “Right right, very important as usual, fine. Yeah she’s here, I’m putting her on the phone.”

She handed you the phone and you let out a groan, then took it to your ear.

“What do you want?”

“What, no hello or anything?” he taunted you and you gritted your teeth.

“Hello Bucky, what do you want?”

“I need to see you.”

“I on the other hand could live out my days happily without seeing you,” you said and he chuckled.

“Is this still about the dress?”

“It’s about your existence in general.”

“Ouch,” he deadpanned. “So does 5 o’clock work for you?”

You checked your wristwatch.

“I have plans until 4 so no.”

“I meant 5 a.m,” he corrected you and you made a face.

“Do you just not sleep?” you asked. “I mean it wouldn’t surprise me if you were a vampire, now to think of it. Leather jackets, wearing all black, you have that brooding expression all the time…”

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Oh great, do that so that I can ignore that text,” you stated. “I’m not coming anywhere at 5 a.m.”

“Charm…”

“Why on earth would I even—”

“You need to be there to see our guest off, you know the rules.”

That was more than enough to make you pause, your head snapping up. You pursed your lips and ran a hand over your face, then huffed out.

“No promises.”

“See you at dawn sweetheart,” he said and hung up. You clicked your tongue, then handed Becca her phone back.

“What is that about?”

“Steve’s guest,” you said and Becca raised her brows, then shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” she said, grabbing her tea cup. “No wonder you’re sending him off at dawn, I’d say he overstayed his welcome.”

Meeting Ethan was going to be awkward, you knew it was. Too bad there wasn’t a get well soon card that also included an apology for causing a person to get shot as well, so you figured you could just come up with something when you were there. You walked through the door to the café, then slowly made your way to the table he was sitting at, typing into his laptop. You cleared your throat, making his eyes shoot up at you.

“Hey.” He pushed his chair back to stand up and you offered him a smile.

“Hey.”

“Please,” he motioned at the seat across from his and you sat down, then stole a look at his shoulder when he sat down as well.

“What did the doctors say?”

“That it was a clean shot, the bullet passed right through without hitting anything important,” he said. “They bandaged it and they’ll see, but it should heal without any issues.”

“Good,” you said, letting out a breath. “I’m glad.”

A silence fell upon you for a moment and he coughed lightly, sitting up straighter.

“So,” he said. “I guess it’s nice to have an answer to my question from earlier, after all these years.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms in silence.

“You could’ve told me, you know? While we were dating.”

“There was nothing to tell you then,” you said after you took a deep breath. “There’s nothing to tell you now.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, letting out a laugh. “You can’t be serious Y/N, come on…”

“What?”

“How else would you explain what happened that night?”

“An unfortunate incident,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders and he shot you a look.

“Steve’s men talked to me,” he said. “You have nothing to worry about, I’m not going to tell anyone anything so you don’t have to give me that. I get how it works.”

“Oh do you now?” you asked with a small smirk and he held up his hands.

“I’ve watched The Godfather for three times,” he said, coaxing a laugh out of you.

“You do realize that if it were anyone else, they would be running for the hills right now instead of meeting up with me again?”

“I mean I’m not going to lie, it’s very intimidating,” he said. “That whole thing. But I also think you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

The smile on your lips faded and you swallowed thickly before biting inside your cheek, trying to keep your expression flat.

“Ah,” you said, the familiar disappointment sinking your stomach. “That’s why you accepted to talk to me again?”

“What?”

“Because you think what happened back there was exciting or something?” you asked with a scoff, then reached out to grab your purse. “You should sign up for bungee jumping classes if that’s what you want—”

“No no,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “You misunderstand me. It was terrifying.”

You arched a brow. “And yet…

“You didn’t have to do what you did to protect me,” he said, making you pull your brows together.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I saw you,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “You were—you were kicking their asses until you saw they held the gun to my head. That’s why you stopped. For my safety.”

You pursed your lips together, then put your purse back in the chair, leaning back.

“Ethan…”

“I mean, if you’re a part of that world—”

“I said nothing like that,” you said almost automatically and he let out an impatient breath.

“Fine,” he said. “Hypothetically speaking, if you were a part of that world—”

“Hypothetically speaking,” you cut him off and stole a look around the café. “If I were a part of that world, I’d say there are rules. A code of honor.”

“A code of honor?”

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” you recited what you had heard from your father and everyone around you multiple times. “But hypothetically, if someone is not a part of that world… Civilians didn’t sign up for that shit, and no one can force them to. Trust me, what I did wasn’t anything special.”

“Either way,” he said. “Code or not, I don’t think anyone else would have done it. That’s why I wanted to meet you actually, to thank you. What you did back there, it means a lot.”

Oh.

This was unexpected. If it were anyone else, they probably would have never wanted to see you again, let alone actually thanking you but it shouldn’t have been that surprising that Ethan saw it like that. It was one of the first thing that had drawn you to him back at college, he always managed to see the best in people.

“…Seriously?” you asked, a tiny ray of hope warming your chest and he nodded.

“Seriously,” he said. “I mean I’m not going to pretend it’s not scary but at the end of the day, I liked spending time with you.”

“I liked spending time with you as well,” you said with a small laugh. “Minus the incidents.”

“Fingers crossed for fewer incidents,” he joked and you nodded.

“No promises but I’ll try my best,” you said and he grinned, then drummed his hand on the table.

“So can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Oh it’d be great thank you!” you said as he stood up. “You’re very sweet. A decaf latte please.”

He tilted his head. “Decaf?” he asked. “I remember you downing five espresso shots with zero problems, what happened there?”

“I can still do that but I should cut down on caffeine today,” you said, smiling slightly. “I need to get up really early tomorrow.”

“How early are we talking?”

“5 a.m.” you said with a sigh. “And it will not be fun, I’m telling you.”

“You’re starting on yoga or something?”

A small laugh climbed up your throat and you nodded your head.

“Uh huh,” you said as he walked to the counter. “Or something.”

When the car pulled over in front of the skyscraper, you lifted your head off the window, wiping the drool off your cheek as discreetly as you could.

“We’re here, miss.”

“Thank you Carl,” you murmured before a yawn split your face and stretched out your tired muscles. The sky was still dark, and the chill of the air sent a shiver down your spine when Carl opened your door for you. You rubbed at your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up, then walked into the skyscraper with two bodyguards following you.

You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would get you to the roof, rubbing at your eyes while you checked your reflection in the mirror. The classic music filled the elevator, making you hum along until it came to a stop and the doors opened.

“Let’s do this then…” you murmured and walked out of the elevator, your whole body tensing up because of how cold it was. Bucky was standing in the middle of the roof, some of his men pacing around while two of them stood by the edge of the roof, looking down. The tight rope on the floor caught your eye and you followed it to the edge, tilting your head to the left.

“Is that him?” you asked and Bucky looked over his shoulder, then turned around to see you better.

“Charm,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered. “Why are we doing this at this hour again?”

“No potential civilian witnesses,” he said as you approached him, your shoulders still tense. He took a look at you, then shrugged off his long coat and dropped it over your shoulders, his pleasant scent filling your nostrils.

“I’m not even cold,” you said through chattering teeth even though your body immediately welcomed the warmth, and he scoffed a chuckle.

“Mm hm,” he said. “Of course you’re not.”

“That being said, I’ll send it back after I get home,” you said, your nose stuck in the air as you rolled the sleeves of the coat up a bit. “I’m not catching pneumonia just because you decided to pull this shit at dawn.”

“You should keep it,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you think—”

“Please don’t kill me, please!” the shout coming from the ledge cut you off and you glanced at the rope, then up at Bucky.

“How long has he been begging, exactly?”

“Too long for my patience,” he muttered before he raised his voice; “Shut it, asshole!”

“No no no, please I can—I’ll change,” the guy said. “I’ll—I’ll never cross paths with her again, I swear!”

“Funny, he seemed much more confident while he was shooting at me,” you commented and a dark shadow passed over Bucky’s eyes.

“Deadly mistake,” he drawled and you took a couple of steps to go to the edge of the roof to look down at the man hanging by a rope over the edge of the roof. He was too panicked to even notice you while he dangled there, trying to break free from the rope and you took a deep breath, then turned to Bucky.

“What’s his name?”

Bucky put a cigarette between his lips, then lit it and exhaled the smoke.

“Tony Willis.”

“No no no, please help me—”

“Tony Willis, you have been accused and found guilty of multiple crimes against the city,” you recited the speech you had heard from your father many times. “You have put civilians in danger, attacked a member of a key family, and tried to break the truce. The—”

“I’ll change! I’ll change I promise you!”

“The punishment for these crimes is death,” you continued, deaf to his begging. “The sentence is to be carried out immediately, by a member of the family or a person of their choosing.”

You stepped away from the ledge to walk to Bucky, ignoring the pleas of the man and Bucky stubbed his cigarette before holding out his gun for you, but you shook your head.

“I don’t want my hand to smell bad,” you muttered, scrunching up your nose and a fond smile appeared on Bucky’s lips.

“As the princess wishes,” he said, his voice almost soothing before pointed the gun at the rope on the floor. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

He fired the gun at the rope, making it snap in half and the man’s shouting ceased immediately as he plummeted to his death. For a moment no one said anything, a silence falling upon the rooftop while you stared at the first rays of the rising sun before you hid your yawn behind your palm, then lowered your hand and glanced up at Bucky.

“Well then,” you said, crossing your arms. “I don’t suppose you brought coffee?”

Chapter 4

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob! bucky #mob boss bucky barnes #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader

441 notes · View notes

house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

legally binded - 4

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev part | next part

Chapter 4: Family Bonding, Festivals and Feelings?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Things are gearing up 😮‍💨 (ik i said i was gonna take a break, but i couldn’t help myself, now ill take a break lol, happy readin!)

Word Count: 6k+

“No one’s going to get cancelled — it’ll be fun.” Colin Jost smiles curtly on your flat screen TV.

You sit on the bed with a spoon hanging from your lips, an eye on the bright screen having just finished watching a rerun of Jenna’s SNL episode. You made sure to buy it as soon as it was available; locking yourself away in your room.

Currently, you are watching this week’s episode of SNL and Colin and Che are giving their weekly news update.

“Las Vegas is opening up a pop-up vaccine site in a strip club and don’t worry the strippers say the vaccine comes with singer and actress Y/N L/N. This time she’ll be the designated driver – I heard she’s on a tight leash.”

Your smile instantly drops.

“Speaking of Y/N,” Colin bounces off, reading off the cue cards. “Did you see her last week sitting in the audience during Jenna Ortega’s episode… hey, I wonder if they’re a real thing.”

Colin and Che share a knowing glance, “Nah.” They say in unison then move on to their next bit.

Scowling, you turn the TV off, practically throwing your bowl of cereal on the side table.

You supposed you can’t be too mad – all too familiar with the snide jabs and harmless jokes from others in the industry. This is what you signed up for, right?

Whatever, you’re sure people are loving it.

It’s been a whole week since you left New York and you haven’t spoken to Jenna. It seems how you two acted back in the Big Apple was a success because it got your managers to back off, for now. You didn’t see a reason to contact the actress so you let the silence pass — you see when she posts on social media.

You don’t have time to think about it because Coachella weekend is coming up soon. For the first time since Vegas, you will be working and you have been itching – wanting nothing more than to dive head-first into work mode.

It’s what you do best.

You are invited to do a guest performance on a big producer’s set for the festival. It would be your first ever time performing at Coachella but you were privy to the culture of the festival, having gone as an audience member to support your musician friends.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Link pops his head in your door, holding a phone up.

–

“Please don’t do this.” Your pleas go underheard.

“I don’t know why you keep trying, the answer is the same Y/N.” Link rolled his eyes, pointing to a house.

“I think this is the one.”

You scan the two-story typical American home tucked away in the boroughs of suburbia up in the desert, otherwise known as Coachella Valley.

Or well, Jenna’s parent’s house at least.

After Link had dropped the most terrible news; you had to be seen with Jenna in Coachella. Liv and Jake had instructed your team to drive you to stay with Jenna as you prepare for the festival – it was convenient they said.

Convenient my ass.

“Relax... Marcus will be back to pick you up, he’s gonna drop off your bags at the rental house.”

“Why can’t I just go with you then?” You ask.

“Liv said to drive you to this address. Jenna gave explicit directions to drive you here.”

You frown pulling on a loose thread on your sweater.

What could Jenna possibly want that she’d want you here? She looked pretty upset at you, the last time you talked.

You really don’t have it in you to fight with her, again, especially after the long drive from L.A. up to the desert where you thought — you’d be staying in your villa for Coachella weekend.

“Now go see the girl, please.” Link reaches over to open the door.

When you step out, the car is already driving speedily down the street not even giving you a chance to change your mind. You hear a flurry of voices from the side of the house but it sounds far away. Toy cars and trollies litter the grass yard.

Slowly, you walked up her porch, your shoes scraped as you ascend the concrete steps. Hesitating for a brief moment, you realize: Jenna is inside. Well duh. But the thought of her on the other side of the door has your heart dropping out of nowhere. You see flashes in your memory of her frown as you explain why you have to leave New York so soon.

Unspoken words as she says ‘well I thought–’

What did she think?

You would probably never know.

The door opens with a creak breaking you out of your thoughts.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Aliyah leans against the doorframe, smiling.

You laughed, “Yeah, we do.”

She doesn’t say anything else and just yells over her shoulder, “Jenna, she’s here.”

Then walked off.

“Hi…” Jenna appears, leaning on the doorframe with a hand.

She scans you for a brief moment; not having seen you since New York, a week ago. She had to make sure you’re still alive because she hasn’t heard from you since then.

You also practically ghosted her.

After feeling guilty about how she left things with you, Jenna sent you a text the next day, asking if you made it back to Los Angeles safely.

You liked her message with a thumbs up.

A thumbs up! Not responding would have been better, the actress bitterly thought.

“Hey.” You greet. “How are you?”

“Fine. You?” She answered quickly, smile sealed tight like an envelope.

“I’m… good. Yeah. Just working.” You answer honestly.

“Oh really?” Jenna asked.

“Yeah, something for Coachella actually.”

Jenna raised her brows in surprise. “Like what?”

You send a tight-lipped smile, “It’s a surprise. People don’t know I’m here yet.”

Jenna can’t fight her excitement; giddy about being in on a secret. But then she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed at you and not fascinated.

“Why haven’t you texted me?” Jenna sighed, her voice dropping to a lowly whisper, in case someone was walking by.

You raised your brows, surprised by her question. “Oh… um. I’ve been busy like I said, just working, trying to keep my head down and all that.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” She asked accusingly.

You missed her tone and shrugged, reassuring her, “Yeah. Of course.”

“But, I heard you were busy this week too, filming another movie with Barry Keoghan and The Weeknd?” You changed the subject, hoping to talk about something else. She takes the bait after scanning your eyes for a second.

“Yeah, it was just a short role. But it was a lot of fun. Abel actually talked about you.”

“That’s great, I’m happy for you Jen… and yeah he’s an old friend.”

“Sung your praises pretty high, I had to make sure he was talking about the right person.”

You chuckle, “Oh okay, I see how it is.”

Your laugh caused a sudden warmness to manifest in Jenna and she couldn't help but join along. “Come on, my family has been dying to see you again.”

“Really?” You asked, stepping inside her childhood home. “So you think I made a good impression?”

She turned to look back at you, surprised that you care. “Maybe… don’t let it get to your head, though.”

You laughed as you followed her through the house. “Is that jealousy I hear Ortega? Scared you won't be the only movie star around?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Shut up. You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot that may have impressed your family?” You cocked your head and grinned wide.

“Yeah, yeah. Like, I said. Don’t let it get to your head. They could care less about celebrities and Hollywood. They’re pretty grounded.”

You shrugged, looking at the various family pictures hanging on the wall. “It’s fine. There’s only one Ortega I want to impress anyway.”

You’re not sure where that came from and it seemed Jenna shared the same thought because she raised her brows at you – but didn’t comment.

Jenna blocks you from walking when you reached the sliding glass door. “What?”

Jenna chewed her lip anxiously, “My family can be a lot. In numbers and in the other sense too. There’s a lot of us.”

“Oh… that’s okay.” You answered. A bit confused as to why she is telling you this. When you see her genuine concern your gaze softens. “Jenna, relax. I can handle the family… and I can charm anyone’s socks off.”

She relented, rolling her eyes at your joke. “Okay, okay.”

"Wait..."

Jenna turns around.

"Why am I here exactly? At your parents, that is. Link told me that you gave my driver instructions to bring me here."

Jenna bites her lip in contemplation. "Um—like I said my family wanted to see you again and I heard you were going to Coachella anyway so you know, two birds one stone."

You nod, accepting her answer.

Jenna opens the door for you two to step out.

–

Sounds of laughter rang around as you and Jenna sat in lawn chairs in her parent’s backyard.

“What are Timothee Chalamet and Zendaya like in real life?” Markus – Jenna’s brother leaned forward to ask.

“Markus!” Jenna scolded and threw her brother a glare.

The actress blushed as she sat beside you but all she felt was the vibrations of your laughter, indulging her brother’s question.

Jenna can’t help but wonder if you have other family members that spend time with you like this. You look so carefree and genuinely happy; comfortable around her family — after knowing you for a couple months now; she guesses it’s a no.

“They’re cool. Just like everyone else to be honest. Especially, Timothee, sweet guy but he’s a bit of a typical frat bro.” You joked, “And Zendaya, well. She’s just as amazing as everyone says she is. Great work ethic, it’s inspiring when you work with someone passionate like that – makes you want to be better and work harder.”

Jenna’s sisters are eating your story up. Secretly she knew they enjoyed the tales of celebrities and pop culture. It’s nearly impossible to live your life without seeing a public figure pop up on an ad on your phone or on the side of a bus stop on your drive home.

Jenna is barely home enough to be able to have moments like this where she can humour her sister's questions. But they all had their own lives to live. She's has been looking forward to this break for a while, knowing it was coming up after her long week in New York.

She still can’t describe New York.

Something seems to have shifted between you two by the end of the week. But she didn’t know if it was for the better. The two of you have this constant push and pull; where everything is fine one moment, then one of you says something and it turns tense and weird as you both stay silent or you just completely blow up on each other.

Jenna didn’t know if she had it in her to try to decipher what these restrained responses she gets from you could possibly mean.

You are an enigma; a defensive, hot-headed asshole that grinded every gear the actress had.

“Do you like Zendaya, buddy?” You bounced her niece in your lap, enjoying how the baby grabbed at your fingers.

But then Jenna turns around and you act like this. Sweet, protective, charming.

How are you the same person?

She can’t fight her smile as she watched the adorable sight.

Jenna didn’t know you were good with babies.

“I think Z would think you’re just the most adorable thing. Oh my god, Jen, can I send her a picture of us?” You turned to her, with a bright smile.

Jenna didn’t know when you started calling her by her nickname but she certainly won’t say how she enjoys how it sounds when you say it. “Uh–sure, if it’s okay with my sister.”

“Zendaya’s gonna have a picture of my baby on her phone? Uh yes!”

Jenna laughed, nodding. “I’ll take the picture.” She took your phone, opening the camera.

“What are you doing? Get in here with us." You asked with an adorable scrunch in the nose, surprising Jenna.

“Oh, I just thought— okay.” She swallows her growing grin, sliding in beside you.

Her sisters share knowing glances.

You happily scooted in, pressing your chest to her back.

Jenna is suddenly reminded of her you and her, alone in her dressing room.

She presses back into you.

“Say, cheese guys!” Jenna clears her throat.

With big bright smiles, you placed your head above her shoulder to get in the frame, repeating, “Cheese!”

Even her niece seemed to be enjoying the attention as she smiled brightly and toothless while standing on your lap with her chubby legs. Jenna snapped a couple for good measure, checking over the pictures. The three of you are squished together as she held it in portrait; you all looked cute Jenna can admit.

Like a little family.

What?

“Oh Jenna, send me that, please. I want to post it on my Instagram.” Her mom spoke up already reaching for her phone.

“Okay, okay.” Jenna rolled her eyes but sent herself the pictures first before airdropping them to – everyone – who begged for it.

“This is adorable, I think I’m gonna make this my lock screen.” You grinned, staring at the photo. She sees you typing a message, indeed sending it to the actress like you said you would. “Just for your niece.”

Jenna felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you saying you’re gonna crop me out the photo?”

“No… but now that’s a good idea, thanks.” You mocked with a smile.

“Mom, how did you already post that picture so fast?” Mia asked.

–

“Don’t be mad.” Jenna begged.

“Mad? Jenna. This isn’t what I signed up for.” You pinched the bridge of your nose.

The two of you were standing in her driveway, in a discord of course. Jenna just forced you into another situation that you wanted no part of.

“You just told Link to call off my driver and now you’re saying don’t be mad. Of course, I’m mad! Why did you say yes to your Mom, Jenna.” You sighed, dropping your hand limply.

“I didn’t know she’d insist.” She groaned walking closer, “She said that you shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself for the weekend when there is room here, next thing I know she’s forcing me to ask you in front of everybody.”

"I'm sorry." She grabs your arm. “Link said you might be mad.”

You stare at her for a couple of moments. Their hearts are in the right place, you guessed. Eventually, you rolled your eyes and sighed. “Thank you I guess… I appreciate that the sentiment.”

Jenna smiled in relief, “Yeah, of course.” Then scrunched her nose in thought. “We actually really don’t have the room so I don’t know where she’ll put you.”

She should have known. This is so typical and cliche; sharing a bed trope? Please, can the universe be any more unoriginal?

“Mom, are you sure?” Jenna whispered as she peaked her head out the small awning of the door – making sure you can’t hear.

“Jen, go to sleep. We have a packed day tomorrow. Everyone’s coming over for the game.”

Tomorrow is sports night and her uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents are set to come over. It was a weekly tradition for the extended family to host a gathering to watch the game every Friday; with Jenna’s busy schedule, she hasn’t been to one in months. She’s grateful this one is hosted at her house but then inwardly sighed because she should probably warn you about that too.

“Mom…” She pleaded in a whisper.

“Goodnight and be responsible. I trust you two.”

“Mom!”

Jenna dropped her head in defeat as she listened to her Mom’s footsteps dwindle further away.

“Hey, you should probably get in there before all the hot water runs out..”

She turns, seeing your freshly showered figure. For a moment, Jenna finds herself stuck. You’re rubbing a towel on your wet hair as grey sweats hung lowly on your hips and she was desperately trying to avert her eyes from the small patch of you skin exposed.

“I already showered.”

“Oh okay.” You shrugged walking over to grab your phone.

“Which side do you prefer?” You asked absentmindedly,

“What?” Jenna blinks away.

“Of the bed. Which side do you prefer?”

“Oh. The left.”

“Thank god. Every bed I’ve had to share I’ve had to fight for the right side. You’re perfect.”

Jenna watched as you jump into your preferred side, getting comfortable under her covers.

She doesn’t know why she feels a mismatched thump fall out of rhythm with her heartbeat at seeing you in her bed.

“Alright, are you gonna be weird about sharing a bed? ‘Cause I can just take the couch or call my driver to pick me up. I can get a hotel room or something.” You sighed sitting up.

Jenna furrowed her brows, “What no. Can you please stop jumping to conclusions?”

“I’m not.” You mumbled but don’t argue further. Jenna gets in beside you.

“You satisfied now?” She throws out but it sounds just shy of playful and maybe even flirtatious – definitely not how she meant for it to sound.

“Uh– sure.” You replied sliding the blanket up to your chin as you tried to get comfortable again.

There’s that weird tension again, Jenna thinks and she thinks it’s starting to annoy her.

“Okay, what’s your deal?” Jenna crossed her arms, turning to you.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not.” You sat up to face the other actress.

Jenna frowned, “Yes you are. You have been since New York. Did I do something? Because you still haven’t told me why you just left town like that.”

“I told you. Jake wanted me back for Coachella. Why else would I have just left all of a sudden?” You explained.

“I just– I just feel like you’re not telling me something.” She admits, a bit insecure. “I, at least, thought we’re friends now and when I didn’t see you in the crowd or the dressing room after SNL I was a bit… disappointed? I don't know if it’s dumb but you really did calm me down before my monologue and I wanted to thank you over dinner. But, yeah–”

Jenna looks away, missing your guilty frown. “Jenna… it’s not dumb. God, I feel like an asshole.”

“Well, sometimes you can be.”

You laugh but it’s dry. “I’m so sorry. I–I should have been there.”

You grab her hands. “Look at me, please.” It gets her to look up, the light from the lamp is bouncing off your eyes making them look softer in the dim light. “I promise, I’ll always be there for the important moments from now on. Before, during and after – we are stuck together until the foreseeable future, so.”

Jenna snorts, looking down at your hands. You begin to rub lines with your fingers on her open palm making her shiver. “Yeah, I guess we are.” She whispers.

She doesn’t know when she makes the bold move to intertwine your fingers. But for the first time since SNL, you two hold hands and this time you don’t pull away. But she doesn’t miss the questioning glint in your eyes as you look down. Jenna ignores the attention and squeezes your hand to make you look at her again.

“You mean it though?”

Your eyes soften. “I mean it.”

–

“Where’s Y/N?” Mia asked over the breakfast table.

“Rehearsals,” Jenna mumbled sleepily shoving spoonfuls of food in her dry mouth – still trying to wake up.

When the actress had awakened, the sun was high above the horizon and the desert heat was already inching inside her cracked window. But she woke up, alone.

Differing from how she went to sleep the previous night with you barely pressed up beside her as you laid with your backs to each other. Jenna only found herself un-tensing after hearing your breathing fall into short even exhales.

When she turned over to grab her phone this morning, you had sent a text:

Sorry for not waking you up. You sleep like a rock but I had to go to rehearsals. I’ll be back by 3 :)

She couldn’t be too annoyed at the smiley face you leave with your occasional messages.

“She’s performing?” Mia asks shocked.

Jenna nods, too tired for words.

“The crowd is gonna lose their minds.” Aliyah laughs. “With who?”

“Won’t say.” Jenna muttered bitterly, thinking back to her incessant begging; you never caved.

“Okay… can we talk about it, now then?”

“Talk about what Mia,” Jenna sighs dropping her fork on her plate.

“You and Y/N.” She says like it’s obvious.

“There is no me and Y/N, it’s all for the cameras. Remember the NDA I had to beg you guys to sign?” The actress rolls her eyes.

“Then why were you so upset after New York?” She challenges; tired of her sister’s silence over this whole situation. There’s no way she’s just unaffected by this.

“Mia drop it.” Her mom says.

“No. I’m serious, she’s literally staying under our roof, sharing a room with Jenna. And no one is still saying anything? Am I the only one who thinks there’s something going on?”

“Yes.” Jenna says quickly.

Mia rolls her eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question, Jen.”

Jenna crosses her arms, sitting up. “Of course I was upset. She just left town without a warning, if we didn’t catch her in the lobby she was just gonna a send a text. A text! Anyone would be upset at that — but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

But her sister doesn’t buy it. She opens her mouth to refute but their Dad swoops in saving the day. “Leave your sister alone, Mia. I’m sure whatever is going on with Y/N and Jenna – they can figure it out themselves.”

Jenna groans, “Dad, not helping.”

He shrugs, sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of breakfast.

Eventually, her family scatters to their own corners of the house to get ready for the day. Her other family members would be arriving soon and the actress had to start getting ready. Crap, she forgot to warn you about game night because you left so early. Jenna decides she’ll send you a text after she gets out of the shower.

With the raucous of the day, Jenna forgets to send the text. Her cousins arrived much earlier than anticipated and she was already getting pulled out to living room to talk about her upcoming projects. She gets so lost catching up with her cousins that she doesn’t realize when you arrive.

"Jenna, your novia is here." One of her aunts shouts making her head snap up to you as the front door opens. "Oh wow, and she's brought the whole store!"

Jenna's jaw drops as you walk in, holding multiple large bouquets of different arrangements of flowers. "Y/N?"

"Hey!" You peek your head out from the large flowers. "These are for your family... but I may have overestimated how big these were and Link refused to help me."

"Oh god, these are beautiful Y/N." Jenna's mom gets up from her seat, grabbing as many flowers as she can. "You didn't have to..."

"Oh, it's nothing, really. You guys are letting me stay here, I just wanted to express a little gratitude." You duck your head, all timid now.

Jenna knows it's not nothing. Those flowers cost a fuck ton, she would know she gets gifted those whenever she has an event.

"Well, gratitude expressed. I don't even know where to put these. Mia, Aliyah help the girl, please!"

The two sisters grab all but one smaller bouquet from your hands, walking away with smug smiles.

"Jen, get up," Aliyah whispers in passing as all the women and Jenna's dad filter over to the kitchen to view the gorgeous flowers.

She still hasn't moved from the couch and briefly, she thinks she can feel her cousin's smirking at her reaction.

"You got my family flowers?" Jenna asks dumbly, walking over slowly; ignoring everyone's eyes on them.

"Uh—yeah. Sorry if it's a bit much. I wasn't sure what everyone liked so... I got them all." You scratch your head with a bouquet in hand, catching Jenna's eye.

"These are for you..." You smile, holding out a smaller albeit more personal? flower arrangement. It felt like Jenna, somehow.

“I picked it out myself.” Your smile turns shy.

Like, if she were to walk into a flower shop and see this bouquet, she would instantly grasp it and never let go.

We still talking flowers?

"Thanks..." Jenna mumbles, grabbing the flowers; your fingertips touching sends sparks down her arm.

"Um—you're back early..." Is all she manages to say.

“Yeah… they didn’t need me for a long time so I decided to come back.” You explained, glancing at the new faces in the room. “Uh– what’s all this?”

The actress sends you a sheepish smile, “Family game night, we watch the game every Friday and cook some barbeque, it’s a whole thing. I forgot to text you, I’m sorry. You can call your driver back if this is too much.”

You laugh, squeezing her shoulder. “And miss out on great food? No, thank you.”

Jenna scans your eyes for the truth, “Are you sure? I know this isn’t exactly your scene so I understand.”

“Jen.” Your hand slides down, softly grabbing her hand. “I can’t even remember how long it’s been since the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I’m so in.”

You squeeze her hand for good measure. “Guys close the door.” Someone shouts.

Jenna doesn’t let you drop your hands this time because she’s already gripping them, pulling you to sit with her cousins – introducing you.

She ignores the giddy feeling in her chest that you want to stay.

You don’t say anything even when you’re both sitting and she’s still holding your hand.

–

“Who are you performing with?” Jenna tugs on your arm.

You squint to see her through your sunglasses. The Californian sun was making its presence known today and there are crowds of people everywhere as you tried to find some shade. It’s just past 6 PM and people are already starting to get rowdy – before all the good sets are even on.

Fish nets, sparkles and bedazzles are all you see in the sea of people and you just know you’re at Coachella.

“I can’t say…” You fight the smile on your face, finding her begging adorable. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“But Aliyah knows! I heard you whisper it to her.” She glares back at her sister standing a fair distance away from you two – who was talking to Mia and her boyfriend.

“I didn’t tell her anything, Jen. We were just fucking with you.” You laugh, sliding your hand in hers.

An unspoken comfortableness has formed between you two. Light touches are a new development in this… situation Jenna had with you.

Whether it was knees touching under the dinner table, walking shoulder to shoulder on your daily walks around the neighbourhood (there wasn’t much to do as Coachella weekend approached) or leaning her head on your shoulder as she slept when you two watched TV before bed.

And now, it seems like things have escalated to a new level of comfort where you two willingly linked fingers whenever you walked anywhere. Neither of you make a peep when someone eventually reaches for the other’s hand.

“Rude…” She pinches your side making you flinch away from her.

Jenna’s immediately tugging you back closer.

“Hey… I can’t get an injury before my performance. I’m legally binded to a contract.” You state.

Jenna snorts, “I thought you were friends with the performer? Are you really not gonna tell me who it is?”

“Nope and sure we’re friends but, I’m still contractually obligated to the festival and all that.”

“Come on Y/N!” She groaned unconsciously stepping closer to you. “I’ve been so nice to you, I haven’t called you an idiot all day!”

You laugh, “Is that supposed to win me over?”

“You tell me? Is it working?” The laugh dies in your lips when she tits her head in question.

Jenna misses the gulp you take because she was leaning closer, trying to find your eyes behind the dark-tinted glasses you had on.

“No…” You replied with a vacant tone.

Jenna steps back when the sun blinds her eye. “You’re no fun.”

“I don’t know what to tell you… you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else.”

“Speaking of everyone else, I’m surprised we’re not surrounded by your groupies.” Jenna eyes the group of people hovering not too far away.

You snicker, “They are not my groupies. I barely know those people but it happens at every music event. They flock over like geese. I let Link handle them.”

Jenna frowns, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?” You look down.

“That you can’t even enjoy yourself at a festival without someone hovering over your shoulder.”

Since Jenna’s started this PR relationship with you her fame’s only increased overnight. She hates to say it but Sarah was right, being associated with you has only made her more famous and well-known. She felt like a Kardashian or Tom Holland who couldn’t even step out of their own homes without a camera being shoved in their faces.

It’s getting so bad that Jenna has security with her everywhere she goes. She stopped driving herself to places. A headline even dropped that you two are official and serious now and that you have met her family; paparazzi tried to camp at her parent’s house until they called the police.

“Sometimes.” You answer honestly, shrugging. “But it’s part of the job.”

Jenna’s frown deepens, looking around. “This is not part of the job. At least not what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, but we learn to deal with it, right?” You nudge her shoulder. Seemingly unbothered that made Jenna bothered for you.

“How?” Jenna couldn’t help her curiosity.

“Surround yourself with people that genuinely care about you. That still picks you even after all your fuck ups. Only got me about three of those, so I try to keep them close.” Then you let out a sad laugh, “I make it very hard for them sometimes, though.”

Jenna looks at Link as he holds a bored hand up when a girl tries to walk up to you. Then he’s shooing her away and whispering to both of your security guards.

She wants to fight the urge to say that you have a fourth person in your corner with her.

Instead, she says:

“I think you got a good one with him.” She nods to Link.

You follow her sight, “Yeah, I do... He’s usually right about most things too.”

“What do you mean?” She looks up in questioning.

Maybe Jenna’s not so bad? Flashes in your memory but you don’t tell Jenna. “Nothing.”

Jenna squints her eyes. “Fine… keep your secrets.” Tone a playfully bitter.

Eventually, you, Jenna and her sisters walk around aimlessly from set to set, taking pictures and enjoying the atmosphere. Jenna would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. Somehow you all managed to find an empty corner by the Artist section of the performances which meant you had loosened up a bit.

Jenna decided she liked it when you’re smiling, carefree and happy.

It suits you better than your permanent scowl.

You’ve been so stressed this last week, taking phone calls and Zoom meetings. She tried not to express her concern at seeing how you obsessively fretted over some project, consuming you some nights.

Jenna knows obsessive. She knows anxiety. This was different.

She finds herself with more questions than answers when it comes to you.

Why are you so closed off all the time? Is this how you work all the time? Where did this recent streak of bad behaviour start? Is there more to it than what you’re saying?

Are you okay?

But Jenna can’t find the right words to ask, so she doesn’t.

Only offering her warm pressure on top of you to hopefully lull you to sleep when you both drift off in her childhood bed.

Somewhere along the evening, she finds herself close to you.

You've loosened up as the days progressed and somehow, you and Jenna have found yourselves wrapped up in each other's arms as you danced.

Jenna had her back pressed firmly against your chest; her head tucked under your chin as your arms wrap around her waist from behind; hands linked as you jammed along to the music.

“The Met Gala’s coming up.” Jenna speaks up after a few moments of silence. “I’m invited.”

“Me too.” You reveal. She perks up, looking back at you.

“Yeah?” She smiles, pleased with your answer.

“Mhmm. I’m actually a co-chair this year.” You send an embarrassed smile.

She turns in your hold, jaw-dropping. “You are?”

“Yeah… why do you think I’ve been taking those calls all week? I was getting ready for the Met.”

“I thought that was for Coachella?” She snorts but can't help but ask, "Do you ever stop working?"

“Says you. Miss Scream Queen.” You tease making her roll her eyes.

“Be my date.” She says all of a sudden. “and walk the carpet with me this time.”

You raise your brows at her bluntness. This time?

You remember the last time she said those words and a tiny part of you prayed she meant it differently this time. But you can't fight your smile because you couldn't even say no if you wanted to — overwhelmed with the sudden want, to show off the girl in your arms. “I would love to be your date.”

Jenna's eyes sparkled with delight, beaming at you widely.

"Great! I'll talk to Enrique and Thom Browne about it."

"But I'm a Prada Ambassador?"

"I'll handle it." She nods with finality.

But before you can say anything, Link slides in with a whisper in your ear and a knowing smirk in Jenna’s direction.

“Hey, I have to go.” You whisper into her ear, pulling away but Jenna tightens her grip.

“Wait.” She steps forward – much closer than she means to.

“Yeah?” You asked softly and suddenly Jenna can’t hear the loud thumping of the bass anymore.

“Good luck and break a leg.” She says in a whisper.

Her hand reaches up to brush your neck still looking into your eyes. Jenna feels the same overwhelming pressure in her chest that she’s recently felt around you and gives into her sudden impulse; leaning in, parting her lips; meaning for them to connect to your cheek but instead swerve and slot in between your lips instead, in a moment’s haste.

She feels you tense for a moment before giving in, cupping her cheeks too. Kissing her back. Jenna loses it a bit, not expecting your lips to feel so soft and smooth and perfect against hers. Jenna can't help but tilt her head to the side, allowing your lips to press harder.

She feels the same electricity from your first meeting – when you shook her hand. The same electricity she tries to fight off every time she's near you. Except this time, it's by tenfold.

Jenna is so lost in you that she can’t even hear her heart beating loudly in her ears anymore — only feeling your thumb softly stroking her jaw.

The sound of coughing breaks you two apart.

“Sorry but Y/N we need to go.” Link sends a sheepish smile but he's trying to fight his grin at having a front-row seat to the show.

When Jenna pulls away she looks deeply into your eyes searching for some kind of indication of your feelings.

You smile shyly, squeezing her waist and rubbing her back. “I’ll find you after the show?”

“Yeah…” Jenna whispers, still staring into your eyes.

“I’ll find you!” You yell over her shoulder as Link drags you away.

“Holy shit, finally!” Mia slides in beside her.

Jenna doesn’t have the energy to shrug off the arm Aliyah throws over her shoulder as she brings her fingers up to her burning lips. “I don't know why I did that...”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot. The both of you.” Mia rolls her eyes walking back to her boyfriend.

Jenna looks around, blinking, immediately catching the phones held in the air capturing her moment with you.

She walks off, following her sisters.

Unbeknownst to you and Jenna, a headline is about to drop:

New developments in Y/N L/N's Vegas case. Caught with cocaine! Las Vegas PD makes no official comments on possible charges or arrests. But is this the end for the bright star?

The strip club and vaccine bit with Colin and Che is from a real line in one of their segments LOL.

yall happy now?

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmoree @orang3-ish @friedryes @canyonyodeler @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidio @fearstreetsoloyouandurmom @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @bandaidss @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @natblidaclexa @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @slu7her @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @cyberexpertalienspy-blog @jennaortegasfootrest @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @heroofdeath11 @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @sorexhera @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon1 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @namesduntmatter @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #wednesday netflix

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powderpinkandsweeet · 3 months

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My gf is away on a trip for two weeks, and I’m taking it out on y’all. I just horny dump on this account I’m sorry. Teensy bit nsfw. This one might be a part one with part two being more of a modern thing being able to text and call and such.

With Jackson Ellie of course there’s no way you can really keep in contact when she’s away, but you each think of each other constantly.

She hides notes for you around the house, sweet little compliments and “I love you”s that make the weight in your chest just a little bit lighter. Some of them are hidden so well you don’t find them until after she comes back.

Ellie dreams of you when she’s gone, the good and the bad. Sometimes they’re visions of domesticity where you’re baking a pie or giving her scritches on the head. Others are nightmares. The ones that make Ellie shoot up in bed in a cold sweat, searching for you and finding only Jesse snoring beside her.

She knew about how people would have phones back in the day. Joel told her that he would send messages back and forth with people instantly. Ellie wished for a cell phone so she could make sure you’re okay. Checking in with you to probably an annoying degree when you’re more than likely safe and sound. If only she knew how to send messages via carrier pigeon.

Ellie keeps a photo of you tucked in her back pocket, kept safely in a wallet that unfolds to reveal a series of candids and portraits she managed to take of you. Her favorite, of course, being the ones where you’re laid bare beneath her. Flushed and glistening with sweat. If she was sneaky enough on her way out, she could snag a pair of panties from the laundry pile. Just another little reminder of one of the reasons she kept fighting.

When she’s out, Ellie’s always keeping her eye out for possible souvenirs. She might tuck a flower into her notebook to press and bring back to you, hoping you would like the pretty colors and a taste of the outside world. You loved the beautiful and delicate pieces she could find, and did your best to treasure them. Ferns especially, of course, would bring a smile to your face.

To find food for you, though, she felt most proud of herself. To provide for you, and to scavenge for little treats like a bar of chocolate or a bottle of wine for you to split.

(Though frankly I would be very afraid for her for this unless she sanitized this thing like nobody’s business) In the backstreets of some towns are shops with blacked out windows and illicit signs. Surprisingly the toys and harnesses aren’t sold out, since Ellie thought the demand would have doubled, if not tripled, after everything went to shit.

She’d fucked you with her fingers more times than she could count now, but at 5’5” tall and 100 lbs soaking wet, her fingers weren’t as long or thick as the cocks lining the wall in front of her. She could curl her fingers and watch your eyes roll back in your head and moan her name, but she wanted you cock drunk enough that you could barely form words.

She could watch her cock stretch your pussy to the limit, making you squirm away and squeak. She would hold you down though, knowing the flare of the head and the length and curve of her cock would make you feel better and come harder.

When she gets back, the night is all about you two. It was perfect. The wine, the chocolates, and getting dicked down were worth the wait.

#tlou 2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams #wlw #ellie x reader

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worldlxvlys · 5 months

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one choice

part 6 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, cursing

a/n -> hope u like <33

read the previous part for context !!

MATT’S POV

when my eyes fluttered open, i was immediately met with a pillow that wasn’t mine. i knew this pillow though, and those sheets.

i had forgotten where i was momentarily, until i looked over and saw her. her eyes were closed, lips parted slightly while she slept peacefully.

she looked angelic, the soft rays of the sun seeming to make her glow. she moved around in her sleep last night, leaving her barely covered by her blanket.

i couldn’t help but let my eyes wander her body, taking in every feature. her smooth skin was littered with dark marks all over, and the blanket left little to the imagination. before i knew it, i was hard again.

it took everything in me to fight the urge i had to take care of it right there next to her. what would she think if she woke up to me jerking myself off to her sleeping form?

oh my god, what was gonna happen when she woke up? she would want to talk about what this meant for us, but i couldn’t handle that.

what if this was a one time thing? what if she wanted nothing to do with me after this ? did i fuck up our friendship? i had to get out of there.

i got up quickly and quietly, careful not to make any noise while i got dressed. when i was done, i pulled her blanket over her so she was fully covered. i looked around for a pen and paper to leave her a note, as i didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

ok, she has nothing to write a note with. i’ll just leave her a text.

well i could have done that, if i had realized i completely forgot my phone in her room before i left. i didn’t make this realization, however, until i had gotten back home.

so not only did she think i was the type of guy to fuck and dip, but i also couldn’t avoid the conversation that i was running from in the first place.

it’s not that i never wanted to talk about it, i just wasn’t ready for our friendship to change yet.

was running away the best way to handle the situation? definitely not, but i only had so much time to decide what to do before she woke up.

so basically, my overthinking ended up screwing me over. doesn’t it always ?

what was wrong with me? this was the girl who made me feel safe and loved, and now i couldn’t even talk to her. how did i manage to fuck up this badly?

one choice. one choice stemming from my fantasy-filled thoughts is all it took. and the decision i made last night led to more poorly made choices. choices that i wouldn’t have made had my brain not been corrupted by her.

her face, her smell, those perfect little moans that fell off her lips, she had a way of making me ignore every logical thought that my brain produced. i was so desperate to finally have her in the way i’d only dreamed about for years.

now if i didn’t fix this, i wouldn’t have her in any way.

———

READER’S POV

when i woke up, matt was gone. the spot where he had slept next to me was cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while.

for a second, i questioned whether last night was even real. had i really fallen so deep into my delusions that i started to believe them? i found the thought to be worrisome, but i tried not to dwell on it as i got up and made my way to the bathroom.

when i caught a glimpse of the hickeys decorating my skin i felt relief wash over me. i wasn’t going crazy. just as quickly as it came, the relief was replaced with a new feeling; embarrassment.

i seriously let myself think that he would want something more. hell, he marked me like he did. but he didn’t treat me like i was his best friend, he treated me like i was a one night stand.

maybe he had a valid reason for leaving. i tried to talk myself out of the rabbit hole of assumptions i was about to go down, and picked up my phone.

once a few hours had passed without him returning my texts or calls, i knew. he was done with me, he had to be. why else would he just leave without warning and ghost me?

i should’ve know this was going to happen, people always leave me in the end. it just never occurred to me that matt could be just like everyone else.

——

MATT’S POV

when i got to her house, i let myself in using the key she had given me. “y/n?” i called her name, not receiving an answer.

i pulled out the ice cream i had bought her on the way to her place, putting it in the freezer for her.

when i got to her room, she happened to be fresh out of the shower. she wore nothing but a towel, her eyes widening when she saw me.

“matt?” she asked before rushing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. the water droplets that coated her skin soaked into my t-shirt, but all i could focus on was the fact that she was in my arms.

i inhaled the scent of her fruity body wash, eyes falling shut as i rubbed her back soothingly.

she then pulled away, smacking me upside the head with her heavy hand. “don’t do that again matt, i thought i scared you off. i thought you hated me- i thought i lost my best friend”

i cupped her cheek gently, “i could never hate you, and i’m not going anywhere. i was just overwhelmed, but i shouldn’t have just left life that. i’m sorry, i was gonna leave a note, but then i couldn’t find anything to write with. and i was gonna text you but i left my phone here and-”

“matt, it’s ok. i’m just glad that you’re here now” she whispered. “but there’s nothing to be scared of, i mean- last night was just the heat of the moment, right? i mean, it had to be, why else would you leave like that” she whispered the last part to herself.

shit. this was the problem, i didn’t know what the night before was.

i didn’t know what i wanted, and i didn’t want to hurt her in the process of figuring it out. what i did know, was i wasn’t going to lose her because i got greedy. so, i decided i would figure it out later, but for now: “yeah, that’s all it was”

“so, we’re good?” she asked. “we’re good” i confirmed.

“good. then i’m gonna get dressed and then we can watch something?” she posed the last part of the sentence as a question.

“yeah, and i brought you ice cream” i told her, watching her face light up at the news. “wow, you thought you really messed up, huh?” she asked as she grabbed her clothes to change into.

“i did really mess up, but i won’t do anything like that again” i told her. she just smiled at that letting out a quick, “i know” before moving to go back into her bathroom.

“wait, you’re seriously going into another room to get changed? did you forget how we spent last night together?” i joked. admittedly, it was probably a little too soon to crack jokes like that.

“last night never happened” she spoke before closing the door.

shit, why did that sting a little?

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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saerins · 7 months

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PREV: #002 PLAYING DOMINO 𖧧 #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 NEXT: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — ever since the first meeting, you’ve proven to be an anomaly. and yet again, sae finds himself out of character, doing things he didn’t think he would.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. angst/fluff, profanity, physical/verbal abuse, violence, mentions of infidelity, broken homes, unrequited love, manipulation/gaslighting. word count: 6.7k

༝༚༝༚ more yn and sae for this chapter yay !! ty to all of you who are reading this heh mwah you guys are my motivation <3 let’s hope i keep this pace up so some of you can get the tea faster :p

somehow, the fact that you’d managed to help land an interview with itoshi sae has given you some perks at work. (you’d let sumi take the credit for it, but considering your voice is on the recording, it was hard to deny your involvement.) the best of it all? sumi’s right; mr tatsuji is so absolutely pleased that he barely bothers to visit your department to chide any of you.

that way, at least if your personal life is a mess, your career is not. (for now.)

after three days of staying over at eita’s, you’re finally lugging your feet back home today. besides, he has a date and you’re not about to play third wheel when he inevitably comes home with her.

that’s otoya eita for you.

he insisted that it’s fine and if he really wanted to get some that he’d bring her to a hotel, but you’d really rather not get used to putting up at someone else’s house. especially when, technically, you do have a place to stay.

as you unwillingly (and slowly, painachingly) trudge back to your apartment, you can’t help but revisit your messages with sae. ever since you told him you’d let him follow you if he made a private account, he hasn’t responded since.

were you just in over your head? maybe he was just bored and was passing time by texting you. maybe he didn’t really mean it. maybe someone else took his phone and texted you just to make fun of you.

time to time, you still think of the night you met, how his eyes fluttered close, how he stayed rooted in position, how you would’ve actually done it out of curiosity if it wasn’t for the fact that it was a public place with cameras littering every few inches of space.

you sigh, locking your phone and tossing it back in your purse. in the end, maybe itoshi sae really is just someone for you to admire from afar. maybe that’s for the best; you can’t imagine how it’d even feel like dating someone who has such a big spotlight cast on him.

the evening air is chilly, the lights of the nearby shopping mall a warm golden, the sea of people walking past you soon to drown out. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re living a privileged life—being able to live in such a nice district, with a better-than-average apartment that had been fully paid for since you were born. and if life had been kind to you, then maybe you’d like living at home more than you do now.

but as it is, going home only serves as a reminder to all your problems. unescapable, unavoidable, unbearable. and maybe it’s not such a good move for you to depend on eita a lot to be your escape, to help you forget about all of it, at least when you’re with him, but you can’t help it. escapism feels nice. it’s nice to be around someone who knows about it and still accepts you, even though you and him don’t see eye to eye about it most of the time.

your stomach’s growling, and the macarons at the bakery’s display that you walk past are both nostalgic and tempting. but you can’t afford that.

something as simple as a box of macarons.

hang in there for the long term, you tell yourself. one day, you’ll get everything back.

not ten minutes later, you’re at your own doorstep, hesitating to even enter. through the door you can hear the sound of the television. it’s loud and playing some drama that always airs at this timing. you’ve heard the same voices so many times before.

it’s funny to think that these sounds used to feel like home to you.

either way, you have to get this over and done with, so you slot your key in and walk through the door, carefully toeing off your shoes as though being quiet would make you escape her notice.

“and where did you go off to the last few days? can’t even come home and be a dutiful daughter and eat with her own mother?”

it hasn’t even been five seconds.

all that ever awaits you at home now is the vile spit of your mother’s. it’s laughable because all she says is nonsense. you haven’t eaten on the same table together in years, even if you have been living under the same roof.

some part of you can’t help but be defiant. you know it’s a bad idea, but she’s out of line, and yet you’re still helping her. and you can’t figure out why.

“how about you be a dutiful mother and stop spending all your daughter’s money and go find a job?”

there’s a sharp sound that bounces off the walls of the living room quicker than you can expect it, and it takes you five seconds and the sting on your cheek to realise your mother had just slapped you with all her might.

not an ounce of hesitation or regret. there is only fury in her eyes as she looks down at you, summoning every bit of disdain she can muster.

of course, how could you forget? this is what you get for talking back to her. it’s been a while since she’d last laid a hand on you, so maybe you’d gotten cocky, thinking she wouldn’t do it again.

“is this all you’re good for? you’re not using that filthy mouth to jack people off so you’re using it to spite me?”

there’s a lot you want to say.

you want to talk back to her again, to say that she’s the useless one out of the two of you. the one who doesn’t work yet gambles all day. the one who spent all the savings and insurance money so she’s fully depending on you month to month.

you want to tell her that you’re not some whore who goes around fucking everyone you see. she always hated eita, but that’s because he knows she’s no good. that’s also why you never tell him if she lays her hand on you. you don’t want to get them into any altercations. you also want to tell her eita’s taken better care of you than she ever has, and you don’t even have to jack him off for it.

but you stay silent.

because silence is the most comfortable you can get with her. no matter what you say or do, it will never suffice for her. she wants money, and she’s only angry because you haven’t been home to give it to her. it’s why you lock your own door every time you head out or go to sleep. you don’t want to find your own belongings gone by the time you’re back. neither do you want to find her snooping around your room in the middle of the night.

both of which have happened before.

taking advantage of your shock, she yanks your purse out of your hand, fishing for your wallet and grabbing all the cash she can find before tossing it back to you.

there’s no mercy in her eyes as she glares at her own daughter, the one she carried herself in her womb for nine whole months and once sworn to love. and now she blames the same little girl for ruining her body and refuses to take responsibility for her.

“listen, be a good girl and just give me what i ask for okay?” her tone is nothing but condescending and threatening. “if you’d just behave yourself, i wouldn’t have to do shit like that. think a little, would you?”

the demon that is your mother speaks as if you’re in the wrong, sighing to herself as she lights a cigarette and walks away, stuffing your hard-earned money in her purse before making for her room and slamming the door as she completely disposes of you for the day. she already got what she wanted, after all.

utterly defeated, you completely forget about your hunger, retreating into your room, locking the door behind you and falling to the floor. your vision blurs and your cheek still stings. you wonder if it’ll leave a mark like it did the last time.

your phone vibrates once.

blurry vision aside, you can tell it’s eita from the name alone. his talk to me if you need anything, okay? is bright on your phone screen, the only light in this room because you don’t have the energy to turn on the lights. you’re not feeling exceptionally hopeful today. the dark seems just right.

you’re thankful that you have a friend like him. you probably don’t deserve how nice he is to you. but you don’t want to talk to him. you don’t think you want to talk to anyone.

maybe just one person.

but he’s six foot under and inaccessible to you.

you’re not sure when you made it onto your bed—your head’s a mess. it always is when you speak to her. that’s why you scream into the pillow, willing your energy away, trying to drown your thoughts with your voice, dreaming of the day you can break free from this cycle.

thunder, pitter patter, raindrops against the windowsill.

the lightning helps you make out the time from the clock on the wall above your door.

1am. your lips are chapped and the tears are dry against your cheeks. you’d subconsciously slept on the right side, your left still aching from earlier.

slowly, you get up, legs crossed and sitting on your bed, your earlier distress dissipated just slightly, mind a little clearer. (and always questionable.) your phone’s dead and you honestly don’t really care—what you do care about is your stomach’s incessant growling.

it wouldn’t take a genius to know that your mother cleared out all the food in the kitchen. it looked barren earlier from what you could see, maybe just a couple slices of bread and some condiments. you wouldn’t want to start cooking in the middle of the night either, lest she wakes up and you have even more to deal with.

the rain starts to lighten up by the time you’re out of the house, comfortable in your oversized windbreaker. you walk slowly, your slides already soaked from walking in the rain. it’s a nice cooling temperature, the wind in your face making you feel refreshed, like everything that’s horrible could be just a dream.

if only.

a light ten-minute walk later, you’re browsing through the aisles of the convenience store, wondering which brand of processed food is worthy to be your dinner. you hover between the cup noodles on the shelves and the sandwiches in the chiller, taking your time because home is not a place you’re exactly aching to go back to.

can you even call it a home at this point?

eventually, you waltz out of there with a warm tub of noodles, palms relishing in its warmth and your nose inhaling every last bit of its aroma.

dinner could be better, but you suppose you can’t complain when you’re trying your best to save up. after all, it’ll be a pain if your mother figures out the stash of savings you’re hiding. the last thing you want is for her to steal that away from you. then how would you ever move out on your own?

shaking your head as you settle down on a park bench on the opposite side of the road, you decide to throw those thoughts aside for now. it’s not a current problem that you need to mull over right now and destroy your mood. no, right now, what you need is just a peaceful night.

what’s past (earlier) is past.

even though it’s easier said than done when your tears start flowing one by one, and suddenly these noodles are saltier than you remember.

“sure you can’t come?”

sae looks at bianca through the passenger side window, her pout ever present. “nah, i’m tired. besides, if i oversleep who’s gonna drive you to the airport, huh?”

bianca grins at him, seemingly pacified. she reaches a hand into the car, perfectly manicured nails in full view before she clenches it into a fist, holding just a pinky out. “promise you’ll see me off tomorrow?”

there’s something between the lines that sae doesn’t get, nor is he sure he wants to. in all honesty, he’s not even sure why a promise is wanted here but he sticks out his pinky all the same anyway, because he’s pretty sure he won’t miss the alarm when it rings.

“yay, see you!”

“see you,” sae echoes as she bounds towards her friend’s place, ready for a last night of catching up over a game of cards before she flies back to america. as she disappears from his view, he wonders why she even tried to invite him in the first place. they’re her friends, he’s not really needed there anyway.

tuning out of those thoughts, sae drives off, already planning the remainder of the night. it’s 1am, and it’ll be near two by the time he makes it back to his apartment. that leaves him around a six hour sleep before he has to get up and send bianca off.

now that he’s thinking about it, since when has it become routine for him to send her off every time?

before he can even gather his thoughts about it, he steps on the brakes abruptly, wondering what the hell is wrong with some people to not be looking at both sides of the road before they cross, nearly pressing on the honk before something tells him not to. it’s distracting; the fact that the passing silhouette looks familiar and yet not at all.

against his better judgement, he pulls over by the side of the road, deciding to trust his gut. it’s late at night and there’s no reason for it but is that really you sitting on a park bench eating cup noodles past one in the morning? alone?

sae steps out of the car, mask on, pulling his hat down and his hoodie over his head to conceal himself, though some might argue he looks like he’s about to kidnap someone like this. he’s painfully aware this is dumb, and there’s no point to this, because what if it is you? it’s not like he has any reason to talk to you.

he stops midway, checking his phone and scrolling to your messages, his okay still sitting in the text box, unsent. fuck, he didn’t even realise until now. it didn’t help that he had a hectic schedule back to back for the past few days either. he never got around to creating that private account. he’ll just have to do it later.

a fleeting thought comes to him, wondering if you thought he was just pulling your leg about wanting to follow you. sure seems like it to him.

but he continues walking towards that park bench, towards that girl he thinks might be you, without knowing whatsoever what his next move will be. all he knows is that if that really is you, he’d rather say hello than say nothing at all.

even if it means making a detour that would undoubtedly make him endlessly tired the next day. for some reason.

and call him crazy, but as he draws closer, even without seeing your face, he knows it’s you somehow.

there’s something off about you, he doesn’t know what it is yet, but he can feel it. maybe he’ll find out. maybe he’ll try.

“hey, rude girl.”

just by the way your body stiffens up, he knows you recognise his voice. you choke on your noodles, coughing a little and rubbing your face before you whip your head upwards to face him, your eyes going wide with surprise.

“itoshi sae?”

why doesn’t he like it when you call him by his full name? it sounds weird, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“what are you doing here? do you live in the area?” you ask, setting your almost-empty cup of noodle on the bench. your voice is a little hoarse than he remembers, and your eyes are slightly puffy. there’s a faint swollenness on your left cheek, something he can see you’re desperately trying to hide behind your hair. it’s not really working.

he shakes his head, hands in his jacket pocket. “no, i was just dropping my friend off.” his eyes shift from you to the noodles. “supper?”

sae notices your eyebrow twitch ever so slightly, your nostrils flaring a little before you grin at him. “yeah, i missed lunch so this is me making up for it,” you giggle, offering a thumbs up.

is it bad to say he doesn’t believe you? you’re alone in the middle of the night on a park bench eating instant noodles with a slightly swollen cheek. yet you’re in front of him acting like nothing’s wrong.

this is already far from what he’d usually do. if you were anyone else, he would’ve just drove past and forgotten in a few days that he ever saw them. but as it is, here he is, standing in front of you, car parked illegally by the curb, just to verify that it really is you for no apparent reason.

still, he’s glad he did. you look like you’ve gotten a year’s worth of bad news judging by the state you’re in. and sae usually doesn’t cater to people, expects people to tell him what they need, not make him guess, but he’s already guessing what you might need.

your stomach is still growling, though you’re trying to hide it by slumping on the bench, arms over your stomach. sae has no idea why you feel like you have to hide, or who probably slapped you in the first place, but he finds himself disposing of your noodles before he’s grabbing you gently by the hand, tugging you along with him.

“hey, uh, where are we going?”

despite your shallow hesitation, sae feels your fingers curl around his palm. his heart skips a beat. he stops in his tracks, turning back around to face you. there’s an inexplicable emotion stirring inside him when he looks into your eyes.

his free hand comes up to remove his cap, putting it over your head and pushing it down to fit better. he doesn’t have a mask for you, but it’ll do. something tells him you don’t really want other people to see your face right now. and while the circumstances are different, he supposes he understands how it feels.

maybe you think he’s doing this because he’d rather not be papped with a girl, rather not have any more dating rumours. he’ll let you keep thinking that. he’ll keep acting like he doesn’t see the wound you’re desperately trying to hide.

for now.

“i’m hungry, eat with me,” is all he tells you before he resumes dragging you along behind him, calloused hands wrapping over your own.

sae’s not hungry in the least. he’d eaten probably three meals worth of food with bianca before this since she’d dragged him to a korean barbecue joint.

but you’re hungry. you’re starving and you’re not acting like it and you don’t say a thing about it—he doesn’t really get you.

he wants to.

maybe that’s why he’s doing all this. maybe that’s why he lets you in his car, drives to an izakaya he knows all too well. maybe that’s why he keeps stealing glances at you in the car, and maybe that’s why he feels a little warm inside when he catches you smiling to yourself.

as you sit silently beside him as he drives, your fingers fiddle nervously with each other. never did you think that you’d end up in sae’s luxurious car tonight of all nights. as if it wasn’t apparent enough before, after seeing his car, this definitely looks like a life that’s far beyond your reach.

you wonder if sae is the type of person who likes cars. it’s never indicated anywhere if he is. you recognise the brand; you don’t know the exact model but it’s a maserati, wrapped a matte black, at that. the interior leather seats are comfortable, and his air freshener smells nice.

on top of that, he’s driving you to someplace because he’s hungry too. talk about luck and coincidence.

you were thinking of just taking a short walk before going back home, but you’d take his invitation over that any day. you’re not sure where he’s taking you, but your feet are tapping in anticipation, though you hope it’s not anywhere expensive because you’re definitely not dressed the part.

beside you, sae’s not exactly dressed in anything fancy, but with looks like that? he would look expensive dressed in anything.

“quit staring,” sae mumbles, and you hurriedly avert your gaze, embarrassed at getting caught although you snicker a little when you catch the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “what are you laughing at?”

you try to suppress a grin, biting on your lower lip. “you’re not as uncaring as the internet makes you seem,” you ponder out loud.

sae accepts your train of thought. he’s well aware that’s how he comes off in real life too. “and?” it’s a red light so he stops the car, turning his head to look straight at you.

is he asking you what you think of him?

you feel your heart skip a beat. he’s pretty, and he’s staring at you with those clear teal eyes of his and it makes you want to drown in them for some reason. he’s not as unfeeling as he comes across, and for him to bother taking you with him just to eat must mean you don’t fall into the category of people he finds to be just a waste of time.

you want to know what this is.

“i don’t know, you’re like a cat,” you shrug, reverting back to your unserious self. “but i’ll let you know again once i get to know you better, itoshi sae.”

he looks away, the green light barely seeping through his windows. he doesn’t understand. “if you even get that far, that is.” (he likes how you already assume you’ll get to know him more. are you looking to spend more time with him?)

you grin, making an internal bet with yourself. “just you wait,” you tell him, confident in your abilities. “i have a habit of growing on people.”

(sae chuckles internally, because he doesn’t doubt you. you already are.)

“are you sure this place is open?” you ask, discreetly tapping lightly on your cheeks, deciding that maybe you look just fine now. and it doesn’t seem like there’s a soul here anyway.

once sae parks his car into the lot, you take his cap off and look around, the sleek stand-alone three-storey building looking completely closed on the outside. there’s no other cars parked here—surely they’re not still open?

sae takes his keys out of the ignition, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. he looks nonchalant for the most part. “don’t worry, i know the owner, let’s go.”

you shrug to yourself, placing his cap neatly on the dashboard before getting up. he waits and observes as you get out of his car, making sure you’re beside him before he starts walking towards the restaurant. you notice him matching your pace, with you shamelessly adjusting it just to check.

before he enters through the doors, he looks at you, “there’s no one else around. just the owner’s nephew who’ll be cooking for us.”

the shopkeeper’s bell chimes as he makes his way inside, holding the door for you, and you wordlessly enter, even though you’re wondering why he feels the need to tell you that. is it because you look like a mess and he thought you’d care?

it’s cosy and warm inside, classical music filling the air, every table wiped spotlessly clean that they’re shining as the lights from the ceiling bounce off of their surfaces. there’s nobody you can see here, are they in the kitchen?

sae puts his fingers around your wrist this time, walking you through the restaurant, meandering expertly like he’s been here a thousand times. your eyes fall to his fingers; they’re gentle yet firm, and you’re only hoping he doesn’t realise how fast your pulse is right now.

in the end, you find yourself seated across from him on a tatami seating in a private room, browsing through the menus that are already placed on the table.

“order anything you want,” sae says, not looking up from his menu.

you hum in excitement as you start to really look at all the options you have. “oh? if you say it like that i’m not gonna hold back, you know,” you joke around, though sae doesn’t really sense it.

he just shrugs, “sure, go ahead.”

sae ends up regretting it though, not because you’re shamelessly spending a lot on his card, but because he finds out you’re the type to over-order. by the time the food is all cooked and sent to the table, sae’s eyebrows twitch, eyes flicking over across the room to look at you, grinning from ear to ear.

“both of you must be starved, huh?”

you look to the side, only now noticing the guy in the white chef’s coat that came to deliver the food. he has curly light brown hair, with eyes a shade or two darker. a grin is plastered on his face, and by the way sae speaks to him, it seems like they know each other quite a fair bit.

“oh, by the way, this is naruhaya,” sae introduces to you, and the guy holds his hand out for you to shake. “this is y/n.”

“nice to meet you!”

naruhaya’s beaming, a contrast to sae’s usual stoic expressions, but he’s back to small talk with the latter in a second. you leave them to it, until your ears perk up when he mentions a certain model’s name.

“hey, weren’t you with bianca earlier? where’s she?”

bianca—that name isn’t unfamiliar to you. after a crash course from sumi (because somehow she decided you need to know more gossip about itoshi sae after getting to know him in person), you had learned that she’s the model that sae is most rumoured to actually be with. and you’ve seen her from the pictures sumi shoved up your neck—she’s beautiful.

was she the friend he was dropping off earlier?

“meeting her other friends. anyway, sorry to keep you open.”

naruhaya waves it off with his hand. “it’s fine, i was gonna stay and try to whip up some new recipes anyway,” he says, before shooting you a knowing look. what exactly it means, you have zero idea. “i’ll leave you two to it, enjoy!”

once he leaves, you begin to dig in, lathering your meat with sauce, unashamedly inhaling your food because that earlier stint with your mother was entirely too much and you need to destress.

somehow, with sae being as nice as he is, you feel a teeny bit guilty for trying to dupe him into that interview. but you doubt that if you’d asked him normally that you would be here with him tonight so maybe there’s some merit in being reckless like that.

“what’re you smiling about now?” sae sighs, taking a piece of meat and putting it over his rice. “pleased that you’re getting a free meal or something?”

partly. but mostly, you’re pleased that you get alone time with him somehow. maybe it’s stupid, and maybe you sound like half of the female population in the country, but you can see why people ogle over him. if they got to know him like this, then you’d have no doubt that he’d manage to charm their pants off.

though, something tells you he doesn’t treat people like this often, let alone someone he barely knows.

“mhm,” you agree, shit-eating grin on your face because there’s no way you’re going to be so upfront about it. the last thing you want is to ruin a friendship when it’s barely started.

yeah, maybe that’s what you want—friendship. is it weird if you say that itoshi sae gives you the feeling that you can trust him? the last time someone made you feel that way was eita. but somehow, this time, it feels different in a way you can’t explain.

as you’re both digging in, you ask him whatever you’re curious about; how he got into soccer, what his life was like growing up, everything under the sun, only because he entertains you like he did that very first night.

“you ask a lot of questions, are you gonna ask me to get another interview approved or something?” he asks, deadpan as he slurps up the soba.

you chuckle, shaking your head. “no. i just want to know you.”

sae stills at your honesty, this being one of the rare times you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. thump, thump, thump—it’s weird how you make him so aware of his heartbeats when you’re with him. it’s weird how he feels the same way.

then, he sees a familiar sight, you reaching your hand out across the table, your pinky pointed towards him. “i promise you, no hidden agendas this time.”

he swallows the lump in his throat, hooking his pinky with yours before he knows it, the inexplicable emotions only growing by the second.

even though he’s curious about you too, something tells him that you won’t answer him seriously. not tonight. so he keeps it to himself. he’ll find a chance to ask you next time.

if there is a next time.

he’ll just have to make it happen.

halfway through the dinner, you have about a quarter of the food left and sae looks like he’s about to burst. he didn’t really look hungry to you, eating slowly all the way. you probably ate at least twice as much as he did.

“you sure you were hungry?”

“not anymore,” sae deflects, putting his chopsticks down. he looks at you, leaning back and staring at the leftovers in awe. he almost snorts from how dazed you look. “i’ll get naruhaya to pack these, wait here.”

“thanks,” you call after him, knowing just how much of a food coma you’re going to be in once you’re back home.

sae stares at his phone as he navigates through the corridors to find the kitchen; it’s already 2.30am. time passes really fast with you for some reason. usually it’s a bore to sit with people he barely knows, they normally can’t keep a conversation. either that or he doesn’t really click with them. (as evident in the many times he was put in the same room with friends of friends and all that was there is awkward silence and forced conversations.)

not you though.

you’ve always been interesting. you’re intriguing, and a little bit more daring than he’s used to. you’re not that shy, by what he could tell when you so effortlessly reached across the table and snapped a picture of the both of you eating, telling him you want to give him something to remember you by.

as if that’s your last meeting.

he looks at the picture in his photo album. a subtle smile tugs on his lips, and there’s a flutter in his heart that he can’t seem to ignore.

maybe he’s jumping the gun but… he thinks you could be worth any amount of sleep he’s going to lose.

naruhaya enters the private room alone, armed with takeaway boxes, and you smile sheepishly at him as he does. sae must be in the bathroom if he’s here alone.

“sorry, i think i ordered a little too much,” you apologise, rubbing the back of your head. “but it’s all really delicious, really.”

it really is. you’ve never had meat so tender before, and you’re almost sad thinking you’ll probably never get to eat this again. not with the price tag on it.

“relax, i believe you,” naruhaya hums as he carefully places the leftovers in boxes. “so, how’d you get to know sae? photoshoot?”

you narrow your gaze at him, pressing your lips into a faint smile. “if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s working,” you joke, before shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not a model. i’m just a friend of a friend.”

naruhaya blinks at you like he’s surprised. “whose?”

“eita. otoya eita. why?”

“oh, it’s nothing. just… surprised sae brought another girl here for once,” naruhaya laughs nervously, packing the boxes into a clear bag. “usually it’s either oliver and gang or, well, bianca. but i haven’t seen her here in a while, actually.”

you get the feeling that sae and bianca are really, really close.

“i think he just came here on a whim,” you brush it off. “we only met a week ago so i doubt you’ll see me here again anyway.”

naruhaya’s mouth forms an ‘o’, before it reverts back to that knowing smile again. both of you hear footsteps against the wooden floors of the izakaya, so naruhaya takes this chance to whisper in your ear.

“i think… you must be pretty special then, huh?”

before you can even ask him what he means by that, sae strolls through the door, oblivious to the earlier conversation, gaze pointed to you. “ready to go?”

you nod, taking the bags from naruhaya as sae escorts you out of there. “bye, naruhaya! i love your cooking!”

he laughs as you wave enthusiastically to him, and he winks at you right before sae turns around to look at him. “oi, sae, bring her over anytime, okay?” to which sae only waves it off, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever actually see naruhaya again.

“you keep those,” sae tells you after the both of you get into his car, referring to the takeaway boxes. he’d told naruhaya to give you some extra meat, just in case. if he remembered right, eita once said you have quite the appetite.

he pulls out of the parking lot after you give him your address, driving the speed limit all the way back. he’s honestly kind of tired, and he can see that you are too. won’t hurt to make it back a little quicker than you came.

“sure you don’t want some?”

“i’m fine, i’ll be busy for the next week or so anyway. i won’t even be home.”

there’s a hint of disappointment in your chest when you hear that, though you chide yourself for your wishful thinking. what makes you think you can run into a celebrity so easily anyway if he is in japan?

“oh, you’re gonna be away? try not to miss me.”

sae chuckles, softly, at the way you can be so unserious—it’s something you hear for the first time, and you feel the flutters in your heart going wild. there’s something about the way he looks so gentle like this, away from the cameras and the public eye that makes him so much more alluring than usual.

“i’ll try,” he says, though you know he’s just playing along.

usually, you don’t feel this type of way around people. you’ve never felt like this before so you can’t even think of ways to explain it. as you sit in the passenger seat, you can’t help but feel a certain attachment growing. it makes you think foolish things like i want to see you again and wonder about even sillier things like would you want to see me too?

but you’d never actually tell him that.

when your apartment comes into view, you grab at his cap on the dashboard, putting it on your head yourself this time, looking into the side mirror. “hm, think this looks better on me, what do you think?”

sae’s a little stunned at the sudden question. you have a way of making him exasperated—in all the good ways. “wanna keep it?” he’s guessing that’s where you’re headed. not that he minds.

“oooh, then maybe i get to sell it for a buttload of money. especially when i tell people it belonged to you,” you smirk, and sae finds himself wondering why your guard is up so high.

he starts driving a little slowly, starting to feel the reluctance brewing inside him. “it’s yours now, do whatever you want with it.” he knows you’re not actually going to sell it anyway. he might not have known you for long, but he thinks you’re not that kind of person.

he’ll bet on it.

you don’t say anymore about it, and he catches you with a blank stare straight ahead, aimed at your apartment.

does it have something to do with your family? was that why you were unhappy earlier?

sae can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know more about you. but you snap back to your usual self before he can do anything about it.

“anyway! don’t worry about tonight, i won’t tell a soul that a superstar like you took a nobody like me out for a romantic supper in a private room,” you tell him, winking as you place your hands on the door handle, ready to go.

sae nearly laughs. “can’t you say thank you like a normal person?” because by now, the both of you are comfortable enough to understand that nothing is ever said in hostility. you take it as his banter.

somehow, your hand finds itself back onto your lap, and the words haven’t left your lips. there’s no music in the car, so it’s just you and sae and the air between you, a tension looming in the air that you can’t ignore. there’s just silence as you observe him from your position, your head inching closer, ever so slowly it feels like you’re not even moving at all. you can see how sae’s gaze flickers from your eyes to the tip of your nose and then to your lips, and you think of how he looks almost like he did that night when you got close to him.

except this time, you’re really tempted. you’re alone, just the both of you, and he’s been really nice and you’re really tempted to feel how soft those lips are and what he tastes like. but that’s too much, and yet somehow his eyes feel like they’re telling you different. would he mind?

your fingers pull the cap down from your head, covering both your faces as there’s barely any space between you now.

maybe just something tame.

in one swift motion, your lips press against his cheek, a hurried thank you rolling off your tongue before you bolt out of the car and back to your apartment, hoping that sae doesn’t think you’re a complete psycho for doing that.

back in the car, sae freezes in position even after you’ve long vanished from his sight. his heart’s still beating wildly in his chest and he wonders what the hell just happened.

and then he finds himself questioning when it could happen again.

why does he want it to happen again?

before he starts the drive back, he does three things.

one, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and creates that account he forgot about. two, he sends you a follow request because he doesn’t think he can handle this curiosity anymore. and three, he opens your messages, breathing shallow as he tries to make plans for the first time.

an hour later, after you’re showered and your heart has calmed down, you check your phone, charged to full now on your bedside table. there’s a few messages from sumi and eita that you missed since it had been dead since before you left the house, and then your heart skips a beat when you realise that sae’s name is there as well.

for the first time in a long time, you go to bed feeling like a giggly high school girl who’s been asked out by her crush. and for the first time in forever, sae receives your message and finds that he can’t sleep now—wondering why he felt so relieved to finally get a text back, and wondering what this frantic rush of his heart really means.

extras !

no, sae did not get up late to meet bianca the next day. he did look extremely tired though, which made her suspicious and ask why—sae did not reveal anything, just said he couldn’t sleep. partly true.

sae was right; if he’d asked yn about herself that night (particularly anything pertaining to her family), she wouldn’t have answered seriously. there’s a reason why she won’t so easily divulge her family issues & doesn’t want sae to know about it.

yn genuinely believes that sae did not notice anything off about her and that he honestly thought she was fine.

otoya did end up bringing his date to a hotel. after she fell asleep, otoya went out to the balcony to call yn and make sure she’s okay since she wasn’t responding.

yn’s mother knows that yn and otoya used to fuck (and still thinks they are), and that’s why she used her choice of words “jacking people off”. she has been treating yn like that for the past few years.

random fact #1: otoya used to purposely get yn in trouble all the time in school so that they could spend time in detention together. that’s how they started getting close.

random fact #2: sae has, in his head, considered being together with bianca before because the guys asked him about it.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi

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